


I am weary, let me rest

by Minerva394



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:35:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 23,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25111012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minerva394/pseuds/Minerva394
Summary: An accidental Apparition during the Battle of Hogwarts deposits Hermione together with two Death Eaters in the middle of nowhere. Trauma, bone-deep exhaustion and magical cores burnt down to nearly nothing, for now they have to work to get out of bed and put some potatoes on the stove. As bodies, minds and souls are slowly healing surprising relationships pop up.
Relationships: Antonin Dolohov/Hermione Granger, Hermione Granger/Rodolphus Lestrange
Comments: 22
Kudos: 218





	1. Knights, damsels and werewolves

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, kind readers! I am a tad apprehensive about my new story as I haven't ever written something so explicit. The story will be posted in drabble-sized chapters. Enjoy!

_May 2nd, 1998, Hogwarts, Charms corridor_

Hermione Granger ducked behind an alcove to catch her breath and to think about what Harry had disclosed to Ron and her about Snape's loyalities. She still could not wrap her mind around it even if she had wondered about the events on the Astronomy tower at the end of her sixth year at Hogwarts. A scream cut through her thoughts. A huge wizard, Greyback probably, was holding Lavender Brown up against the wall further down the Charms corridor, taunting the terrified witch. Another man, this one in Death Eater garb, ran past her, wenching a halberd from the nearest suit of armour’s iron hands and skewering the raging werewolf. The biest fell, dragging Lavender down with him while the Death Eater whom Hermione by now had identified as the elder Lestrange ran on. As Greyback was struggling to disengage from the halberd, blood gushing from a horrific wound in his side the witch grabbed her shellshocked dorm-mate and ran.


	2. Curses flying left and right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of Hogwarts continued ...

_Later, outside Hogwarts_

Harry, sweet, stupid Harry, had left them, to go and face Voldemort all on his own. Ron was running over to where his mother was duelling Bellatrix Lestrange. After depositing Lavender in the infirmary Hermione had made her way down to the battlefield again. She felt disconnected somehow from the happenings around her. Snape a good guy? Lestrange being the knight to Lavender’s damsel? It took a huge effort to summon up the courage and awareness to re-join the fight. She crept along the ruins of one outer courtyard wall, trying to stay in cover. Curses and hexes were flying in every direction. Most of the Death Eaters had already forgone their masks. The witch started to shoot Stupefy and Incarcerous at any dark robe that passed her by, felling a few of Voldemort’s men.  
When she saw someone send a vicious looking hex towards Luna Lovegood she ran across the courtyard, putting up a shield. Luna gave her a smile. Then she felt someone slamming into her back, seeing a green ligth passing over her from the corner of her eye. Just when Hermione wanted to thank her saviour another weight fell on top of both of them, tumbling the huddle of bodies over before she felt all of them being sucked into Apparition. An Apparition that seemed to last longer than any other she had experienced before. Her vision went black.


	3. Somewhere, somehow?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione wakes up somewhere, next to two Death Eaters ...

_Somewhere_

Slowly her conscioiusness came back. Hearing first. Soft snoring from the left, ragged breaths from right above her. Hermione could not feel her left arm due to the dead weight on it but somewhere birds were singing. Smelling next. Sweat, blood, smoke, dust and the faintest whiff of some spicy aftershave. Her eyes would not open right away, gritty with dried tears and blood maybe. When she tried to rub them with her right hand the body on that side tensed and the snoring stopped. Hermione stayed still for some moments until whoever was sleeping next to her relaxed again. She managed to open her eyes and saw wooden beams in a light green colour above her. Sunlight was coming in from somewhere, highlighting the dust in the air. The young witch was fairly sure that the people next to her were men, Death Eaters judging from their dark robes. Very carefully she turned onto her side, trying not to wake anyone. Even sitting up was a chore, the stress, hunger and pain from the last year finally catching up with her. Following the call of her bladder she made her way out of the bedroom. They seemed to have landed in a wooden cabin of sorts. Thankfully the next door opened to an oldfashioned bathroom and a toilet. Hermione reliefed herself and struggled not to fall asleep on the seat. The water from the tab was brownish at first but cleared up quickly. She washed her face and drank but still felt very weak. Sustenance it was.   
The cabin had a neglected air but was otherwise quite cheerful. The young witch found rice, spices and some tins with cyrillic letters and a picture of something looking like lentils. It would have to do. There was even a cooking plate connected to electricity. While the rice was boiling and the lentils softly simmering she sat down on the kitchen table after dusting the chairs and table. Thinking of Harry and Ron and everything else made her heart race in a bad way. Breathing became difficult and spots began to appear in her vision. Hermione put her head between her knees and made an effort to concentrate on her breaths – in and out, in and out, in, hold, out, in hold, out. After a while she managed to right herself and startled to see a man stirring the lentils. He was rather tall, lean and dressed in black trousers and a formerly white shirt. The man turned around, raising his hands to show her that he carried no wand nor any other weapon. Hermione stared at him.


	4. In a datcha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One Death Eater is quite ill, the other is cooking.

_In a Datcha, somewhere near St. Petersburg, Russia_

“My name’s Rodolphus Lestrange. I haven’t done any magic in months, I can’t even do a Lumos. Antonin was covering for me. He must have Apparated us both to his baboushka’s datcha. We will have to ask him but I seem to remember it’s somewhere near St. Petersburg.”

“Hermione Granger.” She debated with herself to shake hands but did not, too badly were they shaking. The question of `why´ was postponed as well. 

“Miss Granger, your wand is in the bedroom. I fear Antonin is in a bad way. Shall we eat and then try to do something for him?” For some reason, and at least at the moment it did not feel like a nefarious one, these two Death Eaters had pushed her out of the way of an Avada. In Dolohov’s case at least her Side-Along Apparition might have been accidental, but to Lestrange she owed her life, just like Lavender Brown. For now Hermione felt she could do one simple thing after the other – cooking rice, eating – and think of nothing else. And then sleep. Bone deep exhaustion was already dragging her under again.

Lestrange pushed a plate in front of her. The lentils did not smell half bad. She forced herself to eat at least half of it before following the man back into the bedroom. Dolohov’s breath was still rattling. Hermione cast a general diagnostic that showed no immediate danger for his life but three broken ribs, the onset of pneumonia, the lingering effect of a hex and near complete magical and otherwise exhaustion. She had heard of powerful witches Apparating as far as Berlin or Paris but of no one going as far as Russia with two passengers in tow. It was a miracle the Russian wizard was still alive.


	5. Armistice of a kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Healing and a little talk occurs.

While the other undressed Dolohov Hermione looked for her beaded bag and found it under the bed. Memories of watching TV with her parents and them always critisizing unrealistic diagnosises and whatever knowledge on magical healing she posessed merged. Thankfully she had stocked up on her potions before the battle. Together they fed the unconscious man Skele-gro, a respiratory potion and an anti-inflammatory one. Hermione levitated the upper part of the mattress and put some transfigured throw pillows under it to keep Dolohov’s upper body slightly raised. As neither Lestrange nor she had any confidence to get a spell right that would transfer liquids and fluids into the Russian’s stomach – those got dangerous very quickly if one missed the stomach and magicked purreed potatoes into the abdominal cavity for instance – they fed him with a tea-spoon which was messy and slow. Hermione felt her energy flag.

“Miss Granger, may I show you a spell and you put it on Antonin? I am not sure whether he wakes up quickly enough to use the bathroom.”

“Of course.” He proceeded to show her a rather complex charm that got rid of bodily fluids. It was used by healers for patients in coma. As Hermione tried it on herself before using it on Dolohov she noticed that it was rather uncomfortable besides leaving her with a feeling of being invaded. She said so to Lestrange. He gave a rather self-deprecating snort.

“We learned that before anything else. The Dark Lord did not think of toilet breaks when on a rant.”

Hermione looked her companion over. 

“But then how? You are obviously wizarding nobility, that much is obvious even after two wars, fourteen years of Azkaban and a lot of trauma. How could you and others let themselves be humiliated like this?”

“I am sure you have heard of the frog in the water. I won’t say more on it right now. I can’t.”

“Don’t worry. I planned on doing and thinking of nothing more complicated than cleaning this house and procuring food for the next time. I fear I will shatter in a way I cannot put myself together again if I do otherwise.”

“Thank you, Miss Granger.”

“Won’t you call me by my given name?”

“I’d like to. Please call me Rodolphus or Rod.”


	6. Nice neighbours and an evil ex-wife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unlikely trio settles down.

The next few weeks proceeded in a very sedate manner. Hermione and Rod still slept up to sixteen hours a day. Dolohov let himself being fed and dressed and bathed but never reacted to anything they said to him. His magic levels were raising at such a miniscule pace that Hermione put the findings of her diagnostic charms on a chart lest she missed those small changes. After tending to the Russian in the morning they had a leisurely breakfast of porridge and tea, talked about what to do around the house. The garden had been left to fend for itself for some years but Rod had coaxed some vegetables and herbs from it, working steadily to improve it. Behind the datcha was a hen-house. On their second day a very old woman had met Hermione there, giving her a toothless grin and pressing some eggs on the startled witch. She taked a mile a minute in Russian, showing the young woman how to feed the hens. As `Antonin´ was a recurring topic in the neighbour’s speech she mimicked sleeping while pointing to the house.   
A few days later the old crone was standing in the kitchen, demanding to see Antonin. After examining the still unconscious wizard she smiled at Rod and Hermione and did some sort of blessing on all three of them. Then she went to the pantry, fetched an oldfashioned hamper and bade Rod to fetch an old tea-tin from the uppermost shelf. It was full of Rubel. The old woman pressed a handful of coins and notes into Hermione’s hands and then beckoned them to follow her.  
The cabin was on the fringe of a splattering of similar plots. They followed their neighbour towards the main road where an old diesel bus was parked. A few people, mainly elderly but some families also, were loosely queueing. When her time came Hermione was able to buy some staple foods while her neighbour, who had introduced herself as Wasilisa, watched out for her not to pay too much. Rod was delegated to carry everything home. Back at the cabin Wasilisa told Hermione to chop some onions and carrots and went through the backdoor. She looked their bedraggled brood of hens over, selected one and picked it up. When she offered it to Rodolphus he paled. The old woman shrugged her shoulders and broke the neck of the hen with a swift movement. The wizard uttered something between a cry and a sob and ran off towards the woods. When Hermione started to follow him Wasilisa stopped her. The young woman returned to the kitchen.   
Later that evening Rodolphus had still not returned. When she was spooning chicken broth into the patient she talked about the day as usual. At the part with the hen Dolohov spoke, his voice gravelly from disuse.

“Mad Bellatrix killed little children like this.” No further explanation came, it wasn’t needed anyway. When Lestrange returned his eyes were red-rimmed. Without thinking about it Hermione drew him into a hug which started another bout of crying. She put him to bed after cleaning scratches of brambles from on his arms and ankles. That night both wizards had nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, my dear readers, for all the kudos!


	7. A new kind of normalcy

Dolohov continued to improve, opening his eyes sometimes but not talking again. Lestrange was easy to live with. He did not talk a lot either, was polite and helpful. One particular day, when they had decided that cleaning spells on the clothes they had arrived in were no longer enough, they carried every piece of cloth they found in the house into the living area. It wasn’t a lot. Dresses, aprons and headscarfes, most likely from Antonin’s baboushka, and some t-shirts and jeans from the Russian’s youth. Hermione had to stretch her Transfiguration spells to make the pieces fit Rod’s longer frame and still broke into fits of giggles seeing the traditional wizard in jeans. When she herself was modelling an apron-dress, complete with broom, Lestrange was smiling as well. Hermione counted that as a success. 

Another week went by. The young witch tried to think about her life back in Britain, about the fate of her friends. She came as far as trying to find out whether there was any wizarding settlement nearby when she suffered another panic attack. Now it was Rod’s turn to hold the distraught young woman. His and Antonin’s Dark Mark’s were gone, therefor it stood to reason that Voldemort was truly vanished. It said nothing about Potter’s fate, however. Rod began to plan a mission to find out more. And as funny as it was to Transfigure the clothes they had, Rod knew that Hermione longed for some proper underwear.   
He took regular walks in the woods and around the settlement and had found a young man who spoke English enough to explain what bus when to take to go to the next bigger city, Gotsilitsy. Hermione never ventured further than Wasilisa’s garden and Antonin moved between the bed and the bathroom, at an old man’s pace but still wonderful to see him moving at all. A cross-continental Apparition with two people in tow could have easily killed him.


	8. On the cusp of womanhood?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodolphus wakes up to a surprise, Hermione has to set a few things straight and Antonin succumbs to the lure of a maybe salacious story.

_End of June_

One morning Rodolphus woke up and felt that something was different. He tried to find out what. Hermione was spooned against him, Antonin on her other side, still sleeping with deep breaths. When the witch moved slightly Rod realised that – for the first time in more years he cared to remember – he had an erection. With a start he sat up, turning away.

“Rod?”

“Shit, Hermione, I’m sorry!”

She laid a hand losely on his arm but did not come closer, for which he was grateful.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, it is an involuntary occurence from what I’ve read. And I think it is wonderful, it’s a sign of your health returning. Maybe your magic will come back as well as your libido.”

“Still, I -, Hermione, I did mean no disrespect! You are so young, just on the cusp of womanhood. I am old enough to be your father.”

She snorted inelegantly.

“Cusp of womanhood! Sometimes you are just too funny. I am twenty, going on twentyone thanks to a year of excessive time-turner use. If by cusp of womanhood you mean my menses, I’ve had them for eight years now. My father is sixtythree, at least twenty years older than you. And while I always took my studies seriously and did not chase my fellow students at Hogwarts to the extent of some I am far from being innocent.”

“Do tell.” That was Antonin, who was watching the unfolding drama with his head propped up on his hand, looking far more alert than usual.

“Quid pro quo. I am making breakfast and you, Mr Dolohov, get up for once. And when we are all seated at the table with a cup of tea I will tell you about my first kiss. And you will tell me which one of you has fancied Professor McGonagall.” 

Rod blushed, which answered her question neatly, and Hermione made her way to the kitchen. Breakfast that day was full of laughter. Antonin told about his crush on Madame Hooch and Rod that he once had stolen a kiss from seventh year Molly Prewett on a dare and how it had hurt his pride when she had patted his head afterwards instead of slapping him. He had been twelve then. Hermione teased her companions with longwinded descriptions of her hair-do and her dress for the Yule ball before coming to the point of the story, her first real kiss. Antonin remarked, “Still rather innocent, a kiss at fifteen after a ball.”

“If you want to hear more you will have to come to the kitchen for lunch and dinner, too.”

From that day on Dolohov was up more and more. Hermione had to parcel out her experiences, truly not that many despite her bragging – snogging Anthony Goldstein after Ancient Runes, heavy petting with Theo Nott in the Restricted Section of the library and finally loosing her virginity with a young man named Jean-Pierre during the Grangers’ last holidays as a family in France.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, things are beginning to heat up. I have never written something as explicit as this story and therefor would be interested in your feedback. Thank you!


	9. Dreams of the non-nightmarish variation

Hermione woke up panting. The dream had started out like some of her nightmares – she was running through a forest – but without the all-compassing fear. Instead she had dreamed about how the moss felt under her naked feet, how the wind felt in her hair and on her arms. The witch was pursued by someone, but not in a malicious way. She never saw his face but felt the fleeting caresses before running off again. Anticipation had been growing to delicious levels but then the sounds of two fighting tomcats in a garden somewhere near had woken her up. 

“Nightmare?” Rod was drawing her into his arms while Antonin’s hand was stroking her back, their usual way to calm each other down after bad dreams. Hermione froze. She did not want to lie to them.

“Ah. No.” After a few moments of silence Antonin’s chuckle could be heard.

“A sign of your health returning, rodnaya?”

She chose not to answer that. The light of the white nights was enough to show the state of her nipples through the singlet she wore and her breathing was still coming in pants.

“Do you need a hand, or two?”

“Toni, stop teasing our girl!” Rod was still holding her very lightly, to give her ample space to withdraw any moment, peppering small kisses along her shoulder and collarbone. When no protest came another hand crept along her hip down to her thigh. Even this fairly innocent touches made her feel like she was to combust any moment. Deciding to worry another time she turned on her back and used her hands to direct Rod’s mouth to her breast and pushed Antonin’s hand under the drawstring of her sleeping pants. The men did not waste a lot of time to be surprised but worshipped her in a way she had not experienced before. The Russian took his sweet time, stroking her hips and the inside of her thighs before drawing lazy circles around her clitoris. Rod quickly caught on that the stubble on his cheeks made her go wild and teased her mercilessly with kisses on the underside of her breasts, licks across her nipples that made them grow impossibly harder. When his lips finally closed around her right nipple she came with a force she hadn’t felt before. Her tormentors did not let her come down gently but wrung some more peaks from her. Antonin’s clever fingers found that spot inside her that made her see stars while using the palm of his hand to keep pressure on her clit and spurring her on with talk about how beautiful, how responsive, how absolutely gorgeous she was in her passion. Rodolphus discovered the edge between her pain and pleasure, alternately sucking hard on her breasts and blowing over the wet peaks to cool them. Hermione was floating bonelessly before falling into a deep sleep between two grinning wizards.

_Rodnaya - dear_


	10. The morning after

For once the witch was the last one up. The two wizards were pictures of innocence and smugness. Hermione put her cup down with some force, wishing for a cappucino instead of Antonin’s Russian tea, tea so strong it might strip the enamel off her teeth.

“Can we be adults about this? Adults with adult needs and adult coping strategies? That overlap sometimes?”

“Overlapping sounds good, love, whichever way you want.” She threw a towel at the Russian and ignored Rod’s snigger. Antonin grew serious and addressed her after she had had a bit of porridge.

“Hermione, we haven’t talked about the whys and hows we are living here.” At her beginning panic he quickly continued, “Rod and I are in agreement that we will continue like we do now, concentrate on getting better, worry about nothing more than getting food on the table and maybe some more clothes. We will offer each other support in any way possible and none of us three is forbidden from bringing up any topic he or she wants. On the other hand no one is forced to discuss something he or she doesn’t want to.”

They obviously had discussed this at length, as Rod continued seemlessly, “We are all getting better. We are sleeping more, we can keep food down, we can enjoy simple things like sitting in the sun in the garden, we even have laughed. I haven’t heard Toni laugh since before Azkaban. And as you have wisely pointed out – mind, body and soul have to be in alignment for magic to work. Toni and I want to assure you that we had a marvellous time last night but have no expectations from you. We’re still not quite sure to what degree we would be able to function anyway. If you’re in agreement we would like to play it by the ear.”

Hermione felt tears come to her eyes. She stood and dragged Lestrange over to Antonin’s chair so she could hug both of them.

“Of course I agree, you lovely, lovely men!”


	11. Sewing basket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antonin tries his hand at altering their clothes and makes a surprising discovery.

_Middle of July_

Antonin had found his grandmother’s sewing basket and claimed, having watched her for long evenings as a child, that he was proficient enough to alter their available clothes as Transfigurations tended to fail at the most inconvenient times. Which was why Hermione was standing in a plain dark blue apron dress, arms extended to the sides, in front of a sitting Dolohov who had quite a few pins between his lips. The blue one would look like a sleeveless summerdress if the Russian managed to tailor it down to fit Hermione’s form. She had gained some much needed weight since being here but was still far from baboushka’s size. Somewhere, between being a Death Eater and Azkaban, the wizard must have aquired knowledge about patterns because he put pins in a line between her shoulder blades and buttocks as well as between her breasts and hips for tucks. 

“Have a look in the bathroom mirror if you like it. Don’t put your arms down!”

The old apron did not look half bad. 

“It’s an improvement for sure. The armholes are still too big, though.”

“Come over, I’ll do them.”

Without hesitation Antonin pulled the zipper down. When he was somewhere near Hermione’s navel he stopped suddenly.

“Fuck! Hermione, you’re not wearing a bra!”

Arms still extended she could not do a lot without getting pricked by the numerous pins already adorning the piece of clothing. Indignation rose within her.

“My only bra is nearly falling to pieces! It was already treadbare when we came here. I do hope that Rod manages to find something for me to wear in Gostilitsy!”

Lestrange had this morrow braved the ancient bus that came along the main road a few kilometres from their settlement three times a week. It would hopefully bring him to the next town which was rumoured to have some shops. Dolohov had had some money hidden with magic in the datcha. As his levels were still too low Hermione had held his hand when he tried to unearth the metal box from the wall, the witch channelling her magic into his spells and wards. It was highly experimental but worked in the end, as baboushka’s tin of rubel was nearly empty.


	12. Explorations

Despite the open zipper her breasts were still mostly covered. Hermione saw Antonin swallowing heavily. Since that night when a dream of the non-nightmare variation had woken her the sexual tension between the three of them had been palpable. Casual touches became the norm rather than the exception. It was funny to see Rod slowly learning to accept them and returning them. Outside the bedroom he was the embodiment of the repressed English country squire.   
One thing held her back.

“Antonin, would Rod be hurt if we -?” 

“I don’t think so. We haven’t talked about a situation like this specifically, as we are usually together, but we talked what to do if I never get well enough to participate in a more active way. I had to promise that I would tell you both if I feel left out.”

“Toni, a weeker wizard would have been dead after that Apparition. Give it time. And tell me what you like.”

“Don’t worry, just hearing the sounds you make gives me more pleasure than anything else I remember.”

“Flatterer!” With that she stepped closer between his knees and very carefully, not to dislodge the pins, slipped out of her apron-dress. Thankfully she wore some of her own knickers and not one Transfigured from baboushka’s.

He swallowed again and put his hands at her waist. Eight weeks ago, when they had first come here, he might have been able to close his fingers around her middle. Thankfully Hermione was no longer as waifishly thin, her perfectly sized breasts right before his face. Antonin tried to stay as calm and alert as possible and slowly moved his thumbs up and down, catalogueing the witch’s reactions. Her pupils dilated and when he reached higher with his thumbs her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Hermione fought against the urge to rub her tighs together. When Antonin’s wandering hands reached the underside of her breasts she put her arms on his shoulders to steady herself. Her flat nipples reacted to the touch and to his breath.

“You are beyond lovely, never doubt that. If I were a poet I would write sonnets just about how the colour of your skin looks against the colour of your nipples or your lips.” He closed the distance and pressed the gentlest of kisses on the side of her left breast while caressing the other one with one hand. The other hand got to rest on the small of her back, mapping every swell and dip there with a featherlight touch. He was freshly shaven, the contact skin on skin so very different from Rod’s but equally tantalizing.   
The last conscious thought that flitted through Hermione’s overactive brain was that she had gone about meditation the wrong way. Now it was dead easy to lose herself in the reactions Antonin’s touches evoked. She took deep breaths, bordering on moans and felt her whole being swallowed by what she felt under his hands.


	13. Consumation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our trio comes together finally.

“Don’t be shy, let me hear your passion!”

A ragged moan tore from Hermione’s lips as Antonin did switch between hard sucking and teasing little bites on her breasts while massaging her buttocks. A slight turn of his had her sitting on one of his thighs. She caught his lips for their first kiss. And what a kiss it was! The young witch was very reluctant to let her companion’s lips go but could no longer hold back from her need to rub her center against his thigh. It took but two or three jerks of her hips for her to climax with a long drawn moan of “Antonin, yes!”  
Hermione slumped against her lover. After a while of catching breath she noticed that his legs trembled. She scrambled off his lap.

“Too much too quickly?”

The Russian nodded, an exhausted if happy smile on his face.

“You’re not quite sated, are you? If you help me to bed I could maybe do something about that.”

“I will help you anyway.” Hermione slung Dolohov’s arm over her still naked shoulder and walked him to their bedroom. There he undressed until he wore only boxers and laid down in the middle of the bed, patting the space next to him. She crawled over, nearly naked as well, and queried, “Is there anything you’d like me to do?” While she had never done head before she was sure she could learn quickly.

“I’d like to bury my fingers in your dripping cunt and make you scream.” Well. Allright. He turned on his side and linked the fingers of his lower arm with her’s. The other hand sought a path down from the valley of her breasts, lower over her belly. There he rested his hand for a moment, letting her feel the heat of the appendage, before dipping lower. It felt wonderful but the real marvel was the look on his face. Hermione chose not to be embarrassed by the speed with which she opened her legs to give him access.

This time neither wanted to go slow. Antonin buried two fingers in her cunt without hesitation, instantly starting a demanding rhythm. Hermione was quickly shedding any inhibitions about the sounds he wrung from her and the Russian’s talk spurned her on further. She was so far gone that she only noticed that Rod had returned when he slipped into the bed behind her, nibbling on her neck and teasing her breasts. When Antonin scrambled towards the middle of the bed the other wizard drew the young woman up on all fours over the Russian’s prone body. After teasing her slit until she screamed, “Sweet Merlin, fuck me already!” Rod slid home with a desperate moan. “Love, so tight, so wet, I-“   
Still he managed to keep a steady and slow pace. The witch lowered her upper body far enough for Antonin to suck on her breasts.   
“Rod, love, let go, come on!” Lestrange came with an almighty roar. His whole body shook and Hermione’s with him. He sat back on his haunches, stroking her back.

“I’m sorry, Hermione, I wanted to wait for you.”

“Don’t be sorry, I am happy and I don’t think I will be left wanting, do I, Antonin?” With that she put her hands around the Russian’s half erect penis, stroking him before taking him into her mouth. He got fully erect soon and Hermione lowered herself onto him slowly. She did not need any directions, took her cues from his reactions. While she had thoroughly enjoyed being worshipped by two experienced wizards giving herself over to their pleasure transported her sensations to an even higher level. She felt alive, she felt powerful, she felt like woman personified.  
When Antonin’s breath grew ragged she canted her hips just so and followed him into bliss.


	14. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some questions are asked and answered.

After all three had regained their breath Hermione summoned a moist towel and cleaned her wizards and herself without magic before they fell asleep.

Two hours later she was woken by the sounds of cooking. Rod had managed to get some much-needed spices and lambchops, a welcome change from their mainly vegetarian diet. Antonin still slept but diagnostic spells showed nothing worrisome. She put on a dress and went into the garden for some salad after kissing the cook.  
After dinner all three took their glasses outside and sat on the bench overlooking the garden. It was a tight fit but neither was bothered by it. The witch vowed to herself to find out more about the battle if she saw a falling star the next minutes. There were three nearly immideately. Linking her fingers with Rod and letting her head rest on Antonin’s shoulder she queried, “Will you tell me what happened that I got caught in that Apparition?”

She felt them exchange looks over her head. Rod began.

“I think I told you our first day here, but I could not do any magic. After Azkaban we all were pretty weak magic-wise, recuperation tended to be quicker if one were a good Occlumens. Which I wasn’t. The night the seven Potters were transferred to the Order headquarters I nearly fell off my broom as my magic was still so wonky. Antonin noticed and did his best to be partnered with me whenever we were sent for something, which was thankfully not often until the battle at Hogwarts. When Toni was tortured after he and Rowle let you three escape I nursed him back to health. By then I could no longer light the fire-place. To busy myself when Toni was sleeping I read up on Muggle combat. At the battle you were distracted by a spell at another student, a small blonde one. Macnair was casting an _Avada_ at you.”  
Antonin cut in, “Bellatrix saw and went wild, I had to get Rod away. I cannot claim that then I cared what happened to you, I only wanted to save my oldest friend.”

“Thank you for telling me. It is more or less what I surmised myself. Rod, why did you push me away from the Killing Curse, and why did you spear Greyback earlier?”

“My life, our cause, had become such a travesty of what it was in the beginning. We were at Hogwarts, and were killing children, our future! From what my father told me the Knights of Walpurgis started as an opposition against banning old practises like Yule and Beltane. Family was everything and tradition was important. I could no longer stand back while the future of magic was being killed, be it that unfortunate girl with Greyback or you. It was nothing personal.”

“Nevertheless I owe you a life-debt.”

“Consider it absolved, you worked your whole youth to vanquish that abomination.”

The men seemed to be done with talking, for a while at least. They turned every enquiry of Hermione around towards herself and now with Antonin getting better and better directed their energies towards necessary repairs on the datcha. The clothes Rod had brought from Gostilitsy were surprisingly well fitting. He had picked two dresses as well as men’s clothes and underwear. A few practical cotton knickers and bras as well as one matching pair in silk. 

“Just imagine, Hermione, they had a lot of things that looked a bit like silk, but it felt totally wrong.”

“Polyester, most likely.”

“Whatever. Wearing that can’t be healthy. Cotton’s not ideal either, according to my grandmother, but at least it is natural. `An English wizard wears silk, wool, linen and nothing else.´“

“Do you know why?”

“It interferes with magic, I think. But I do not know whether that’s just snobbery or superstition or based on something real.”

“It might be interesting to find out.” Hermione’s voice got wistful. The old Hermione would have itched to get herself to a library, this one found the question interesting, full stop. She gave herself a week to tell her wizards about her parents. Antonin had been a curse-breaker, hadn’t he? He might know something.

\---

_Second half of July_

Rod’s magic was returning. They noticed when a bouquet of flowers from the garden that had begun to wilt but Hermione was reluctant to throw out because her wizards had collected and bound it for her was bright and fresh again after she rode him on the settee. The elder Lestrange however refused to use his own wand for trying some spells. He did not go as far as breaking it but said that magic was a gift and that with this wand he had perverted that gift. It did not matter a lot as Hermione’s and Antonin’s wands worked for him.   
The young witch relished her newfound sensuality. Growing up she had always prided herself on her intellect to the point of caring less than the average girl for her appearance. Now she cherished the golden hue her skin got from working in the garden, the glow she projected as a woman secure in her allure and love. There were still places she could not go to mentally but Hermione felt that her feelings for the two wizards she was stranded with here were unshakeable. And reciprocated.   
With Antonin more and more mobile he suffered from cramps in his muscles. Wasilisa gave them an oil with leopard’s bane extract and Hermione enjoyed in pampering the wizard with massages. If she interpreted Rod’s reaction neither wizard had much experience with loving, non-sexual touches. Little by little they told her about their childhoods, which had indeed been bleak and fraught with rules and harsh teachings, by their father’s hands mostly. Hermione used her potions knowledge and made a massage oil faintly smelling of herbs from their garden for Rod and herself. Both men were like kittens in the sun under her hands and they liked to spoil their witch in return. Those instances most times ended in vigorous bouts of love-making.


	15. A Trip to St. Petersburg

Antonin had confirmed what Hermione knew deep in herself – the memory charms on her parents were permanent. They might start to detoriate several decades after the witch’s death but with the expected lifespans of magical people that case would likely not come to pass. The days after that revelation Hermione gave herself time to grieve properly and her wizards did their best to support her. Or distract her in a not entirely altruistic way. She never asked but guessed that Antonin was the one with broader experiences while Rod, after he allowed himself to believe that neither would be ripped from their little bubble of happiness anytime soon, showed to posess a vivid imagination.   
Which was why she found herself tied spreadeagle to the bedposts and blindfolded. The men had even cast a silencing spell that forced her to rely solely on her sense of touch. She knew her wizards fairly well by then but it was still exhilerating not to know who was touching her right then. Right now one was sucking on her toes, something she never imagined could feel as good as it did. The other was teasing her with the softest brushes of maybe a feather, at the back of her knees, at the side of her breasts, on that point where her neck met her shoulder. Hermione felt like one quivering big mess of an erogene zone. When some sort of liquid – honey? – dripped on the corner of her mouth and then on one of her breasts only to be licked off with slow, deliberate strokes of a tongue she gave herself over to pleasure. Something inside of her let loose, floated and then settled.  
After that night the guilt about Obliviating her parents was not quite as raw anymore.

\---

_July 31st 1998_

At her best friend’s birthday Hermione felt that she could no longer put it off to find out what had happened back in Britain. By now she knew that every two hours there was a bus from Gostilitsy to Petergof from where a train was running towards St. Petersburg which had a wizarding district. She talked it over with her men and they agreed to go together. Antonin, while better, was to visit a healer for potions that were above their level to brew and Rodolphus wanted to know about the fate of his brother. 

Two days later they started. Before boarding the train they put on glamours that made them look like a trio of bagpackers of about 25. St. Petersburg’s wizarding district was an underground maze of narrow streets and alleys off Newskij Prospekt, it’s entrance via a small chapel with layers upon layers of Notice-me-not charms. 

“Not even the KGB could find it,” Antonin joked feebly. They had tried to distract themselves from the fact that every one of them had a case of nerves because of facing other people after three months of near perfect seclusion. The separated after agreeing on meeting again in two hours in a café on the main street of the wizarding district. Antonin who had still Russian citizenship would enquire with the Russian wizarding ministry about his status and consult the old family healer, Rod planned on visiting the local branch of Gringott’s and Hermione would brave the library to read up on international and British newspapers. 

The café they had agreed to meet was spacy enough but the trio felt the need for closeness. Antonin was looking haggard with exhaustion, Hermione shellshocked and Rod close to tears. After drinking their tea and - in the witch’s case - a cappucino they paid up and made their way to the nearest Apparition point without discussing their findings first.

\---

The day after the St. Petersburg trip they slept in after a night of disjointed dreams. In the morning Hermione woke up because her wizards were pressed much closer than usual. It felt oddly reassuring, a confirmation that their life could go on as it had been the last three months. She pressed some kisses under Rod’s chin while rubbing her bum against Antonin’s groin. A change in their breaths told her that the wizards were waking up but neither spoke. Rod was slipping lower in the bed in order to suck her breasts while Antonin teased her slit with his fingers, preparing her. Turning her so that she lay half over Rod he slipped into her from behind. Rod’s erection was trapped against her thigh while he continued to worship her breasts.  
The Russian’s unhurried pace made Hermione’s tension rise slowly. She wanted assurance for herself and for her men, “I love you both, I love you, Antonin, I love you, Rod. Nothing needs to change, does it?”

“No, rodnaya, we go on as before. We love you, we worship you, don’t worry, let go.” 

His pace did not change but something inside her unclenched, making him reach further than ever. Rodolphus´ ministrations felt desperate and wild. When Antonin’s breaths against her neck came faster and faster Hermione let herself fall and dragged the Russian with her into a drawn-out climax. Coming down from the heights she realised that there were tears on her cheeks. She kissed Rod while Antonin slipped out of her. Scooting down on the bed she prepared to ride her other lover. When she found her legs too wobbly to do so properly the Russian slipped behind her, holding her body upright. Hermione slowly let herself sink down on Rod, looking into his eyes, who were full of love. He was not as vocal as Antonin in his appreciation but showed it in a myriad of thougthful gestures. Now he was tracing her lips and her neck with his fingers, never leaving her gaze. When she started to caress his nipples his thrusts grew faster. Hermione lost her concentration when a hand found its way to her clit. Rod leaned forward to look at his cock pistoning in and out while Antonin’s clever fingers drew loud moans from her.

“Love, that’s the most perfect view in the world. Come with me!” That she did.


	16. Vodka on the table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio discuss their findings.

Antonin put the vodka on the table after dinner. By mutual agreement they would discuss their findings from the day before. Rod started.

“Rabastan survived the final battle. I found a letter from him at Gringotts, deposited in a way that would find me wherever I went to one of their branches. He had been a spy since the time a goblin and a young witch had been incarcerated at Malfoy Manor. I guess he likes her. He felt I was disenchanted with the Dark Lord even then but did not dare to take me into his confidence because my Occlumency is rather bad and of course because of Bellatrix. He is currently under house-arrest and will have a real trial about his crimes in the first and second war. As Veritaserum and memories this time will be admissable he is quite confident that he will be a free man soon, considering he already served nearly fifteen years for a crime he did not really commit.”

“The Longbottoms?”

“Yes, Bellatrix Imperiused him. She felt he was too soft for a Death Eater and took him with her and Barty. When I came home and learnt from the elves what had happened I tried to stop them. I was arrested before I even found Rab.”

They toasted Rabastan and Antonin enquired, “What about Bellatrix?”

“She was killed at the battle at Hogwarts. By Molly Prewett who was defending one of her children against Bella.” 

Antonin snorted, “Is it very tasteless to raise a glass towards Molly? I have always found it equally admirable and stupid how you honored your marriage vows even if it was an arranged marriage and your wife strayed from nearly the first days.”

“It was not like that the first year. And I still remember the vivacious, funny little girl that made all that parties and balls a pure-blood heir has to attend bearable rather than a chore.”

It was apparent that Rod would say no more. Antonin continued.

“I’ve found out that the British aurors consider me missing in action, most likely dead. They have a witness that saw my body carried off by a giant. The Russians would never extradite me and the provincial governor of St. Petersburg has the power to give me a new identity if I want to. And Mikhail Vladimirowitsch is rather pleased with my recovery. He recommended some potions and otherwise good food and good company.”

“I will try to learn to cook, Antonin. It can’t be that much different from potions.”

“Nah, love, that’s men’s work, you saved the world already once, for now focus on the good company part.”

When Hermione did not answer the two wizards looked at each other, unsure whether to prod her to tell about her own findings. She drew a deep breath.

“I went to the library. They had the `Daily Prophet´ and even the `Quibbler´. I went through that first. If you skip the imaginary creatures reports it is surprisingly informative. The battle was over not long after we left. Voldemort sent the Killing Curse at Harry and everybody believed him to be dead. Snakeface called for those of pure blood from the opposition to come over to his side. Neville came forward, the Sorting Hat somehow dropped on him and in there he found the Sword of Gryffindor. With that he beheaded Voldemort’s snake. That was enough of a distraction to hide the fact that Harry had survived yet another Killing Curse. They fought again, their wands locked until Harry managed to push his spell, an Expelliarmus, through. You-know-who fell down dead and his body disintegrated. That turned the tide of the battle. I made copies of the lists of the fallen, missing and wounded. Harry, Ron and Luna are fine, Fred Weasley, one of the twins, died.”

She pushed the papers over and gave them some time, busying herself with cleaning the kitchen. They had another vodka before going to sleep, toasting the fallen in a senseless war.  
The last thing Hermione heard before falling asleep that night was Rod’s question.

“Do you really not know about the code with Blimbering Humberdingers, Wrackspurts and all the others?”


	17. Larders and letters

_August_

As the summer wore on Hermione was often invited over to Wasilisa who prepared a lot of different vegetables and fruits for the winter. Together they made jams and preserves and dried herbs and berries. The men had rebuilt the larder with new, steadier shelves and Rod had brought home two younger chicken and a cock. After each pickling and preserving session the young witch came home with a few jars of her own to put into storage. While the days were usually warm the nights were growing noticably cooler. Antonin was well enough to join Rod for excursions into the wood. They brought home firewood, berries and mushrooms. Sometimes the Russian would take out an old hunting rifle and bring home a hare or a pheasant. When Hermione grumbled about the number of pellets they had to pick out of the bird before being able to cook it Antonin told her that he would not use his wand to kill ever again. Rod never joined in hunting or even preparing the animals for eating, even if he had bought himself a new wand in St.Petersburg.

One day, when Hermione went over to Wasilisa’s for preserving blackberries and lingonberries the old woman startled seeing her. She continued to look her up and down before drawing her into a hug, pressing kisses on her cheeks and finally saying a blessing over the bewildered young woman. Antonin taught Rod and her Russian for an hour every evening. The young witch by then knew enough to enquire, she even understood the cryptic answer of `You will know when you will know´ but could not make head nor tail of it. Shrugging she turned her attention towards the berries again.

Now that they all had been to St. Petersburg they did not need to make the journey by public transport. The next rainy day, when no neighbour would expect to see them outside the datcha, they Apparated to the city for a shopping trip. Neither had suitable clothes for the coming autumn and winter. Landing on the designated spot Hermione felt queasy. She put it down to nerves and still not having regained all her strenght. Her nerves were especially frazzled because of the letter she wanted to post to Harry. She had kept the envelope open to be able to change the content yet again. For now it read – the fruit of numerous evenings and the help of her wizards – the following:

_Dear Harry,  
I am much better now. I am sorry that I haven’t made contact before but I was literally unable to. Something transported me away from the battleground into a wooded area where I could not understand the people. They were kind and helped me to recuperate somewhat. _

Hermione did not want to lie to her eldest friend. Her men argued that she was telling the truth. For the longest time even thinking of her life before had brought on panic attacks so severe she lost consciousness, the task of writing the letter let her nightmares re-surface. `You won’t be the only one with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, if he is your friend he will understand, as he likely suffers similarly,´ Antonin had remarked and urged her to explain as much as possible.

_Even thinking of the events of the battle, of England, of my parents brought on crippling panic attacks, leaving me unable to breath. I concentrated on getting out of bed, brushing my teeth and stirring my tea. I feel there’s nothing left of the super-efficient Hermione of old. The only books I cracked open are an old cook-book and some comics, to learn the language. And no, I won’t tell you which one. Someone would come looking for me and for now I can’t abide any more pressure than deciding whether to have potatoe soup or a salad for lunch. Please, Harry, keep this letter to yourself._

The young witch felt that Harry would understand eventually but feared that someone, a Weasley most likely, would get his or her hands on her missive and hare off without heeding her pleas.

_Learning that the memory charm I put on my parents is irreversible made me fall into a  
deep depression. People tell me that I did the right thing, that they would be dead if I hadn’t done what I’ve done but still I feel guilty._

No lie either. She felt guilty on principle, as she had taken away her parents’ free will. But she believed Rod and Toni when they told her that Macnair and Greyback had been sent to her parents’ house, which had been thankfully empty by then. Henry and Jean Granger might have eventually bowed to their daughter’s arguments but they would not have run quickly enough.

_I have no idea yet how to finish my education but I am not overly bothered by that either. I do know deep in my heart that I have to take things as they are right now, one little step after the other. Please, Harry, if you or one of our friends suffer similarly – which would only to be expected after fighting a war when still being children – go to the Muggle world for treatment. One day after the other, it will get better._

_Your friend Hermione_

Gringotts St. Petersburg would send the letter to Gringotts London which would then notify Harry. Hermione had feared that the Potter Gallons or Bill Weasley’s insider knowledge might lead someone to St. Petersburg but Antonin had quieted those fears by using a special ward on her and Rod’s letter. Lestrange had written to his brother. Not even Gringotts London would know where the letters had come from.


	18. Declarations

Back at home in the datcha the witch was glad to change into more comfortable clothes. Her breasts had been tender and sensitive for days now. Antonin was watching her.

“Wait, rodnaya, don’t dress yet. I swear your breasts get more glorious by the day.” 

He came over and turned her towards the light coming in from the window. Unthinkable a year ago now Hermione raised her arms to display her assets and basked in the appreciation of her lover. 

“Next time in St. Petersburg we’ll get a camera, Toni.” 

Rod had come to stand behind her while Antonin sat down on the bed, adjusting himself. A wandless _Divestio_ took care of their clothes. Rod was cupping her breasts from behind, displaying them for his friend who was fisting himself with half-lidded eyes, keeping a running commentary.

“Yes, Rod, show them to me! Push them together just like this! I’d really like to come all over your glorious tits, love.”

Such dirty talk turned Hermione more one than she cared to admit and she longed for the time when she could reciprocate properly. Sometimes she formulated in her head what she would like to say to her lovers but mostly they reduced her to incoherent screams and moans. She took the plunge.

“Toni, I love seeing you like this, all wanton and debauched, spread over our bed, your dick between my breasts so that I can lick its head!” The man behind her got harder still and faster than she’d thought it possible they had swapped places. Rod was sitting on the bed now, she backwards on his lap with widespread legs. He was lifting her up effortlessly while Antonin gave a hand to help her lowering herself on Rod’s prick and then admire the picture before him.

“Definitely a camera, loves.”

He stepped closer again and Hermione took him into her hands after _Accioing_ their massage oil. She pressed her breasts together while Rod moved her up and down in sync with Toni’s thrusts. When they had established a rhythm she put her tongue out to give a lick whenever the head was near enough.  
Sooner than expected the Russian stopped, taking himself in his hands after a questioning look at her. The witch let her head fall back on Rod’s shoulder, a move which bared her neck to Antonin and spurred the man on further.

“Give it to us, Toni, let me see our witch decorated in your cum!” 

Yet again Hermione was reduced to moans, especially when Rod used one hand to tease her clit. With the first splash felt on her breasts she came long and hard. The stress of the excursion and of writing that letter were forgotten and a languidness came over her, making her feeling faint. Her men laid her down on the bed, one kissing her temple while gathering sweaty curls out of her face, the other cleaning her with a damp flannel. Without opening her eyes she murmured,

“I love you both to pieces, you know that, do you?”

“We know, Hermione, we love you, too. You are the centre of our world.” 

They spoilt her with light kisses and caresses until she was drawn from her relaxed state by the growling of her stomach. Antonin laughed.

“Spaghetti Aglio e Olio? Shall I put the pot on the stove while you look after Rod?”

He sauntered out into the kitchen naked. 

“Rod, darling? What would you like?” He kissed her deeply, whispering declarations of love and devotion into her ear.

“Lie back and think of England?”

“I can lie back and think of how happy I am here with you.”

Antonin could be heard whistling out of tune in the kitchen as Rod slid home. He took his sweet time, looking at her full of trust and hope.

“Rod, darling, you can let go. I am not made of glass, I will catch you and I will hold you whenever you need it. I love you and nothing anybody says, nothing you have done is going to change that.”

The wizards pace grew frantic as she put her feet up to his shoulders. He came with `Sweet Merlin, witch!´ and a few swipes of her fingers over her nub let her follow. Rod, always considerate, made a move to roll to the side but Hermione drew him into her arms.

“I’ll tell you if you’re getting too heavy, now come here and let me hold you.” 

His breath grew ragged and his shoulders shook. The witch felt hot tears running along her collarbone. She drew calming circles on his back and murmured nonsensical words. When Antonin’s shout of `Five minutes!´ came Rod made an effort to calm down.

“Hermione, someday I will tell you enough of my family for you to understand how precious your love is to me.”


	19. NEWTs and a surprise

_September_

The oncoming autumn saw them very busy. Antonin’s friends in the Russian magical government arranged for an international Portkey to Australia where Hermione sat her NEWTs at the beginning of September. She only took Arithmancy, Runes, Potions and Charms and was back in three days. There would have been a possibility to take a similar exam in Moscow but if the news that Hermione Granger had taken her exams made its way back to England Australia would be plausible, besides being in the Commonwealth. The three days away from home, and the datcha and its inhabitants had indeed become home for her, were harrowing. Her wizards had talked about accompagnying her but the young woman had declined. She wanted to prove to herself that she was able to function on her own.   
Revision strangely had not bothered her at all and still she felt that she had done rather well on her exams. The results would be delivered via Gringotts to St. Petersburg, equally untraceable as the Portkey.  
As she had five hours before her departure she Flooed to Perth and took a cab to the Wilkins Dental Clinic. Disillusioning herself she went inside and watched her father look over some x-rays. He was tanned, had lost weight in a good way and looked happy and relaxed. Her mother was not there. There was not time to find out her parent’s home address therefore Hermione resigned herself to not seeing her mother. She sat down on a bench in a small park across the clinic when a ball hit her on the shoulder.

“Katyin, Mandu, come here! I am terribly sorry, Miss, I hope you are not hurt?”

The ball had been a soft one for toddlers. Hermione picked it up and turned around.

“Not at all, don’t worry!” Her mother was standing in front of her, two children of about two and three hiding behind her legs. Occlumency helped the young witch to keep it together. 

“Oh, you’re British! How wonderful! I love it here but it is nice to hear a familiar accent now and then. My children are just learning to throw, their coordination is not perfect yet.”

The children, a boy and a girl, had to be adopted or possibly fostered. They had the colouring of indigenous Australians. Hermione crouched down and offered the ball to the taller child, a girl. She came forward with a shy smile.

“Hello, my name is Hermione, how are you?”

The little girl hid again. 

“This young lady is Katyin, her brother is Mandu. My husband and I are their foster parents, we hope to adopt them soon as their birth parents have passed and so far no relative could be found. We were just going to collect my husband from work. Will you have tea with me? It’s just across the street.”

The young witch’s heart beat frantically. If she Apparated back to Sidney she would have time for tea with her mother, perhaps even get to know her as an acquaintance well enough to keep in contact.

“You mean proper British tea, I guess? Then I am glad to accept.”

“Wonderful! Children, how about we go over to Daddy’s workplace? He should be finished soon.”

Monica Wilkins took a child on each hand and crossed the street with them, motioning Hermione to follow. As Mr Granger was treating the last patient of the day the waiting area was empty, the Wilkins’ assistant just finishing putting everything to order again for the next day. The children scrambled over themselves to the little table in the children’s corner and their mother fetched a box of duplo blocks from behind the counter.

“I have one separate for our kids, those from the waiting room get lost so quickly. Earl Grey for you?”

“Yes, please.” 

In the few minutes it took Mrs Wilkins to prepare tea the young woman was drawn into the children’s game of building the highest possible block before knocking it from the table. Biskuits distracted the youngsters for a while as the women took their tea. Hermione’s mother enquired after the reason for her in visiting Perth.

“I was doing A-Levels in chemistry, mathematics and history. I am living in a remote colony and that was the most efficient way.”

“You must be very clever and organised if you learned the necessary content of the curriculum self-taught. A good education is very important.” 

A serious glance at the now again playing children induced Hermione’s next question whether the elder one had a school already.

“We are trying. I fear we underestimated the prejudice still rampant against indigenous children. I tricked one school into giving us an interview, using Dr. and Dr. Wilkins in every other sentence of the application letter and refusing to send pictures due to protection of data privacy. You should have seen the headmaster’s face. I keep my fingers crossed that we get a place, but it will be difficult for Katyin if she’s the only child of Aboriginal origin there. If it is too much for her we might relocate to England. Or Sweden.”

“I am sorry to hear that and hope that everything works out for you.”

By then the last patient was ushered outside by Mr Wilkins who then changed and joined his family and guest. He too was glad to hear a familiar accent and they chatted for a while before the children got antsy. Hermione got a business card and the private address of her parents and promised to write. Her heart broke anew when they said their farwells.


	20. Coming home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione returns.

After the international Portkey to Moscow and an Apparition to Petergof Hermione took a bus home because their non-magical neighbours knew about her going away to take her exams. The bus from Gotsilitsy dropped her off at the main road. The witch was a bit disappointed that her wizards were not there but as public transport was not too reliable it had not been clear whether she would catch this bus or the next one. Waving to some neighbours she nearly ran towards her datcha.  
The living room and kitchen were empty, the garden, too. Hermione burst into the bedroom where she found Antonin on the bed in a fetal position, Rod crouched over him, trying to talk to him.

“Toni, Rod!”

“Hermione! You’re back!”

In his haste to draw her into his arms Rod got his feet tangled in the blankets and nearly fell off the bed. His embrace was crushing.

“What is the matter with Antonin?” 

She climbed into the bed, trying to uncurl the Russian in order to hug him, too.

“Severest flashback so far. He is convinced he is in Azkaban again. He would not believe that our life here is real.” 

Hermione pulled off her t-shirt, wrinkled and sweaty as it was.

“Hold that under his nose. Maybe his subconscious will recognise the smell. I’ll take a quick shower.”

Worried she hurried in the bath and then slipped into bed next to Antonin. Together they managed to get him straight enough for Hermione to hold him. Hopefully hearing her heartbeat and feeling and smelling her would bring him back from wherever his mind had withdrawn to.  
Toni safely in her arms she had time to look at Rod properly. He looked like he hadn’t slept during the time she had been away. Had they really thought she would abandon them? The wizard must have read her thoughts in her mien.

“It’s not that we do not trust you, Hermione, please believe me! The first day we tried to keep busy. Then Toni broke out the vodka at lunch. I noticed too late, he has always appeared so strong. It dragged him down and I couldn’t keep him from going under. I thought of knocking him out but could not bring myself to do so. He’s been like this since the day before yesterday.”

“Rod, stop it! I had my moments of panic as well but I had a lot of distractions. I think we have to get some mobile phones for whenever one of us is away.”

“Huh?”

“Portable telephones. You’ve seen them in town. It’s like the Floo, for talking to each other. There were many times when I wanted to talk to you during the last days.”

“Are you satisfied with your exams?”

Phrasing the question in that way was another example of Rod’s thoughtfulness. 

“I did well. But the best thing happened afterwards.”

As she told him of her parents and her new siblings – even if they never learned about the relationship – she felt Antonin slip into sleep rather than unresponsiveness. All would be well.


	21. A broadening of horizons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the confusion, I posted a chapter twice ...

_October_

Three days later an owl from Gringotts reached them. Harry Potter had answered her letter. Flanked by her wizards she opened it with trembling fingers after letting Antonin check for any tracking charms the goblins might have overlooked. There were none.  
Harry was overjoyed to hear from her, told her to take all the time she needed and to write again. He promised to abide by all her wishes. Hermione sent a letter to the Wilkinses via Gringotts in Perth.

After glorious Autumn weather in September the new month brought cold winds and lots of rain. They had managed to improve and repair their datcha on the outside, now they worked inside, sewing wollen material into curtains, finding and closing drafts around the door and window frames and installing new electrical wires.

A few times Hermione caught her wizards talking and then stopping whenever she came near. She was quite sure that nothing bad was happening but felt herself bothered by this behaviour. They would talk when they were ready. 

After dinner they usually had tea and a sort-of game they agreed on during the summer: they had filled a cucumber jar with folded scraps of paper that held nouns like childhood, family, schooling or questions. Each evening they would draw one and then talk. As much or as little as possible. Hearing of her wizards childhoods was eye-opening for Hermione. It was a small wonder they were functioning like they were at all. Antonin had grown up in a loving family only to lose his mother and siblings to a fire when he was five. He had survived because he had been at his Muggle grandmother’s datcha then.  
His father had blamed Muggles on the death of nearly all his family and had taken his son away to England to join the new Dark Lord.  
Rod had been under extreme pressure from his earliest childhood on as the heir of one of the most prominent wizarding families in Britain. His mother had tried to show him affection but she was bedridden most of the time before dying during childbirth when Rabastan was born three years later.

As the days grew shorter and the weather did not improve they spent a lot of time in bed. Hermione was getting massages frequently. Antonin no longer needed them but all three liked this way of showing affection. When they gave her bum a suspicious amount of attention, dipping ever so often in the cleft of her arse the witch thought she knew what they had been talking between themselves. She turned around.

“Boys, if you were thinking of trying something new in the bedroom – why do you not simply ask?”

They had equally sheepish looks on their handsome faces. Rod looked at Toni, who then answered, “The thought of making love to you this way has crossed our minds. But we do not know how to go about it so that it is pleasurable for you, too.”

“I’ll pop into the library next time we are in St. Petersburg.”

“I know that library, rodnaya, I would have found that book if they had one about sex during my summers at baboushka’s.”

“Muggle library, Toni, Muggle. I bet you I’ll find a book with pictures even.”

Perhaps the next trip to St. Petersburg occurred quicker than strictly necessary. At Gringotts letters from Harry and from Rabastan were waiting. Harry wrote about the struggles of the new government under Kingsley Shacklebolt and how everyone she knew fared. Rabastan had wonderful news. The outcome of his trial was one year of wand monitoring and house arrest for that time. `Roddie, you will understand that I do not want to rattle around alone at Lestrange Manor. Xeno has been kind enough to host me and be my sponsor.´ Attached was a picture of Rab, Luna and Xenophilius Lovegood in front of the Lovegood house.

After making copies of the last months’ `Prophet´ - either entertainment or kindling during evenings that were growing colder and colder – the trio ventured into the Muggle library. Antonin, the only one of them with valid Muggle identification, obtained a day pass and Hermione led them to the Family&Health section. Leaving two blushing ex-Death Eaters browsing she went to the foreign language section to look for reading material for the winter, some fiction, some children’s books in Russian – her command of the language was improving but not yet up to the classics – and books on gardening. Two hours later they had about twenty books, four of them for specific research purposes, copied and shrunken. Their last stop was a shop that sold mobile phones. In the end they did not buy anything because it was really expensive and Antonin remembered that his baboushka had had a telephone once and that there should still be a landline somewhere near the datcha.

Hermione got a letter back from her mother, as well as a drawing from the children.


	22. A big surprise

_Middle of November_

The first snow had fallen and Hermione was glad for the new boots she had bought the last time in St. Petersburg. She felt fabulous and was looking forward to an excursion along the woods to harvest sloe after the first frosts. As she wanted to leave Rod and Toni held her back, brewing a new pot of tea.

“Hermione, we wanted to talk to you about something.”

The young witch was surprised – they were already working their way to broadening their sexual experiences – but sat down again.

“Of course, tell me.”

Toni looked at Rod and Rod glanced back.

“Out with it, you are making me nervous!” 

Toni drew a deep breath.

“Love, you remember out talk about the cusp of womanhood?”

“Yes, and I am glad that you both overcame that nonsense about being too old for me.”

Rod continued, “You told us that you’ve had your menses since being twelve. We noticed that you did not have your monthlies once since being here. At first you were half starved and under a lot of stress but now? We wondered whether there might be another reason as we never used any form of contraception.”

Hermione was about to contradict such a ridiculous idea but then thought about some changes of her body during the last months: her breasts were very tender and seemed to have gotten bigger, the aureolas darker, she’d felt queasy after Apparitions but sometimes without an apparent reason, too, and the jeans she’d bought in August were a rather uncomfortable fit now. All in all the men’s suspicion made a lot of sense considering how often they had sex. The young woman found the thought completely overwhelming. She felt her vision blacken and tried to put her head between her knees but fainted before she succeeded.

\---

When she woke up again she was laying in bed, in her pyjamas, a beaming Wasilisa sitting on the right side, her wizards on the left side of the bed. The old neighbour was taking a mile a minute in Russian. Sensing her incomprehension Antonin translated.

“Wasilisa says that you are indeed pregnant, about three months along.”

“How can she know this?”

“She noticed you glowing and that your breasts got bigger when you were cooking blueberry jam together, she has suspected this then already. And then she showed us how a midwife would check how far along somebody is.”

“That would mean we got pregnant nearly immideately.”

Both looked apprehensive, smug, panicked, happy in rapid succession. Wasilisa kissed both her cheeks and said something to Antonin.

“The local midwife will call on us soon.” 

They thanked their neighbour and dropped back on the bed. No one talked. Rod made the first step after some tense minutes.

“Love, you fainted when we suggested we might be pregnant. What do you think?”

Hermione could not hold back her tears, which alarmed her men further.

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but right now I am very happy. I think I will panic later and I will need some books on how to eat and what to do and how to raise a child but at the moment having something tangible of our love ist wonderful!” 

She had her arms full of her two men. For the first time she saw Antonin crying.

“Rodnaya, I am terrified to be a father but at your side everything seems possible.”

“Hermione, you must promise to hex me six ways from Sunday if I ever behave like my father!”

“I will, my loves. But we all will make mistakes, at least with our first child. I heard it gets easier with the following ones.”

“How many are you planning?”

“I have no idea, but wouldn’t you both want at least one boy, as you are without a heir at the moment?”

“Pishposh! I do not care at all about that! Any child of us will be welcomed and loved, be it boy or girl, be it Toni’s or mine biologically. And you are the only one who decides how many children we will have as you have to carry them, get heartburn and swollen feet.”

Hermione’s heart swelled. Antonin cut in, “Rod, did not Yaxley always carry on about how insationable his missus was when pregnant?”


	23. Through a lense

The midwife confirmed Wasilisa’s diagnosis and declared Hermione healthy as a horse. Antonin turned the shed over and unearthed an old cradle. He tried to repare it but in the end had to replace every part of it save the painted head- and footboards. The witch found that reading too many books about pregnancy only made her doubt her own sense of her body and concentrated rather on learning to knit properly – the hats for the house-elves at Hogwarts had been a rather poor effort – and relished in her increased sex-drive. 

The trios forays into anal sex came to a halt as none felt like experimenting with it when the situation as a whole was so exciting and new for all of them. An aspect of it stayed with them, however, the witch liked to tease the protates of her wizards until they could only babble incoherently. It brought them one step closer to the ultimate goal of their experimentations – to make love to each other at the same time rather than one after the other. The young woman would kneel behind one of her men, who was on all fours. She would stimulate his prostate, sometimes also fisting his prick, while the other reamed her from behind.

One of Hermione’s books spoke about the increased blood flow in her labia and clitoris. The men made a game out of it to bring her to screaming orgasms with very little stimulation. At the end of November her babybump became visible. This prompted some highly emotional situations with Antonin and Rod as it was a tangible proof for them of their changing situation. Babynames were tossed about. When one morning Antonin dropped his spoon into his porridge and shouted, “Nadezhda!” the other two looked at him questioningly.

“It would be perfect for a girl as it means `hope´!” 

Hermione liked the sound of it and put it on top of the ever increasing list pinned to the kitchen cupboard. Rodolphus did not want to continue his family’s tradition of male names starting with an R. For now Henri was a tentative favourite for a boy as for Hermione it was an hommage to her friend Harry, Rod liked it because of its French connotation in that spelling and Antonin was reminded of a good friend at Hogwarts who had transferred to Ilvermorny in their second year.  
On their last trip to St. Petersburg they had bought a camera besides maternity wear. Earlier on the two wizards had discovered artbooks, especially those of fotographers, in the library. Devouring illustrated books with fotographs by Annie Leibovitz and Bettina Rheims as well as Helmut Newton and Henri Cartier-Bresson. Antonin already talked about buying a Muggle camera as well as he wanted to venture out in their little settlement with it while Rod pointed his efforts to Transfigure lingerie for Hermione for their increasingly erotic photography sessions. 

Quite a few tears were shed when the young woman wrote to the Wilkinses about her pregnancy. Monica was overjoyed and sent along a stuffed kangaroo with her reply. To Harry Hermione did not write her news yet, she feared that he would search for her if he knew.   
A day later a package with the first devolopped wizarding pictures reached their home. Antonin was eager to open it. He enlarged the kitchen table towards the window for better light and spread the pictures. While he found technical details he wanted to observe better the next time Hermione felt herself blushing looking at the photographs.

One shot showed her sideways against the light, hair up in a messy bun, wearing only a diaphanous black nighty with ties in front and lacy knickers. The ligth was giving the line of her neck and the slight curve of her belly an etheral glow as she turned to face the photographer with a tremulous smile. Never a vain girl Hermione was simply stunned at how beautiful she was in that picture. The next was a close-up of her left breast, done in black and white, and Rod’s hand. At first glance it looked like an unmoving Muggle picture until Lestrange’s index finger slowly brushed against her nipple, the relaxed aureola crinkling in response. The witch felt a corresponding tug on her breasts just watching the picture. The wizard was looking over her shoulder. Seeing that particular picture Hermione felt his breaths come in increasingly shorter gasps. Her own blush must have clued him in to her receptiveness to his advances. He put his hand between her shoulder blades to bend her over the table. With the other one he dragged her dress upward and draped it over the small of her back.   
After making sure that her babybump wasn’t pressed against the edge of the table he entered her swiftly from behind. The witch’s moans finally alerted Toni. He snapped a few more pictures before sitting down on a kitchen chair, releasing his prick from his trousers. When her breath had returned Hermione staggered over to the Russian on unsteady legs, lowering herself slowly onto him. She rode him with wild abandon, never realising that Rod had taken up the camera.

Two weeks later Antonin’s perousal of the new pictures drew an embarrased outcry from him. There, in the background of his witch chasing her orgasm, Wasilisa could be seen through the kitchen window, hands against her cheeks in disbelieving mirth. The old neighbour never said a peep but curtains stayed closed from then on.


	24. Yuletide

The end of December brought a string of festivities. They began at winter solstice with traditional wizarding yule celebrations, led and explained by Rodolphus. It started with a thorough cleaning of the little cabin. Every little corner was swept by hand, not by magic, cobwebs behind the sideboard and cupboard were dusted, the curtains washed. While they were drying they burned sage and pine needles before Hermione, as the lady of the house did a symbolic sweeping of the whole datcha with a broom made from birch to get rid of any lingering dark magic. Rod then set up a yule altar with berries of wild brier, mistletoe and a dish of snow bespelled not to melt, representing red, green and white. Their yule log was long since sitting in the shed, nicely dried. They had decided on aspen, the wood for spiritual understanding, as they felt they would need it most to welcome their child into their family. While in a good and stable frame of mind for months now the trio knew that becoming parents would possibly drag up old anxieties and past traumas.  
While burning the log and eating a feast that had taken three days to prepare they took turns to say a prayer to the sun and to magic.

On Christmas morning Hermione surprised her wizards with stockings filled with dark chocolate, dried apricots and knitted hats that thankfully were far from being the formless lumps that had been her first efforts for the elves. Another present the witch had bought on the sly was a little transistor radio that could receive wizarding as well as Muggle stations. They had breakfast in bed while listening to English Christmas carols and later the Queen’s speech. As no one wanted to eat turkey into the new year they had a roasted chicken with stuffing, potatoes and even brussel sprouts and later mince pies. Hermione had fashioned Christmas crackers of toilet rolls and wrapping paper and bespelled them.

The nights between Boxing Day and Epiphania were spent lazing about, reading, listening to the radio and quiet contemplation. On the evening of January 6th they bundled themselves up warmly and trekked the mile up to the small chapel on the other side of their settlement. Wasilisa had been over and had presented Hermione with a colourful headscarf and the admonishment to wear it. She had been baptized in the Church of England but her parents had not observed. Covering her hair for mass felt strange to her but seeing all the other women similarly dressed she went with the flow. The little chapel was simple and small but the candle light, the icons in their golden frames, the pope in his most festive robe and the festive spirit of the congregation soon had her under its thrall. Especially moving was seeing and hearing Antonin, singing along songs and prayers with closed eyes, lost in memories of happy times at the side of his baboushka. They were invited to Wasilisa’s for Holy Supper, a meal consisting of twelve dishes to honour the twelve apostles. The neighbour was moved and happy to finally being able to cook the whole course again as her two daughters had emigrated to the USA a long time ago and their families could only afford to visit off-season, when the tickets were cheaper. Before sitting down to supper Rod and Toni went over to their datcha to fetch their present for Wasilisa, a new refrigerator. The old one broke down regularly and consumed much too much electricity, putting quite a strain on their neighbours small pension financially.   
The four took their time eating and drinking and even singing. If she were speaking slowly Rod and Hermione understood Wasilisa well enough by then, Toni being a strict taskmaster in their lessons in Russian. They heard stories about Antonin’s childhood and youth, Wasilisa talked about her children and grandchildren and Hermione shared tidbits about her parents and upbringing. Somehow the old neighbour knew not to ask about Toni’s and Rod’s adult life, which was just as well, and neither did she comment on a comparatively young woman living with two men. While the men did the washing up – with magic presumably, as they’d closed the door and were fairly quick about it – the women chatted about Hermione’s pregnancy and what to expect during the birth and afterwards. It was long after midnight when they left, hands full with leftovers.

While she waited for her wizards to join her in bed the young woman felt a strange kind of flutter in her belly. This had happened before but she had put it down to winds. After the talk with Wasilisa she now was quite sure that she’d felt her baby for the first time. Happy tears threatened to spill over when Rod and Antonin finally slipped under the covers. They were awed when she told them about the fluttering and Hermione vowed to herself to try to find out about a spell that let the fathers feel what she felt.

\---

The ongoing month brought severe frost and a scare. Coming back from feeding the hens Hermione slipped on a patch of ice. Rod heard her cry of surprise and carried her back inside while Antonin ran for the midwife. As she had fallen backwards her bum and one of her elbows were full of bruises but pregnancywise the midwife could soon give them an all-clear. The next few nights were a tad uncomfortable as she no longer could lie on her stomach and the bruises on her back hurt. Her wizards were hoovering in the manner of Molly Weasley until Hermione snapped.  
She was sorry immideately afterwards and apologized profousely for shouting at them when she saw how hurt they were.

“Rod, Toni, I am sorry! Please don’t be mad at me!”

“Rodnaya, shh, don’t worry. You are right, we were indeed fussing like motherhens.”

He drew her between them on the settee, pressing a kiss on her temple. Rod was doing some kind of breathing exercise.

“Rod?”

“I am sorry, Hermione. I know that we are bound to have some disagreements sooner or later, much more so when we a cooped up at close quarters. And I know that you still love me even if we quarrel, as does Antonin. Just for a second I panicked, all my fears about my life here with you two, soon to be three, being a only a dream seemed to overwhelm me.”

“And you can’t let off steam like Rod and I do when we are going for firewood.”

“What do you mean?”

“If we feel too tense or unsettled we walk about a mile into the woods and then Apparate to the forbidden area in the woods behind the nuclear plant and duel there.”

“Merlin! What if you get hurt? I would never find you!”

Rod answered that, “Calm down! We only use prank spells, otherwise you would have found out months ago. And it happens only every six or eight weeks.”

The witch huffed, “Allright. I believe you. Maybe I should go into the shed and chip wood without magic more often.”

“Nah. If you feel tense we could walk into the woods with you for tension relief. I dread Wasilisa’s reaction if she thinks that you are chipping wood. She might use her wooden spoon on our backsides.”

“True. I can’t risk that. The only woman allowed to redden your backsides is I.”

Rod looked far more intrigued than she would have expected.

“Speaking of tension relief – have you ever heard about make-up sex?”


	25. An even bigger surprise

February was still miserably cold even if the days grew longer. Now in the seventh month of her pregnancy the expectant fathers could feel the baby’s movements as well. The midwife told them to expect the baby possibly earlier because of fundus height was now several fingers width above her navel. 

By March Hermione was starting to feel the strain on her back, especially if she stood too long. It was no longer as cold as before but the ground around the datcha was quite muggy often. Nevertheless they took long walks, welcoming the chance to get outside more often now the weather was warmer. Apparition was no longer recommended and the datcha was not connected to the Floo network. Going as far as St. Petersburg by public transport got too cumbersome for Hermione therefore either Antonin or Rod went to shop for baby clothes. Early on they had decided not to use a spell to tell them the gender of the child. The midwife told the young woman to use a coarse cloth and cold water when showering on her breasts to prepare them for breastfeeding. At the end of March Hermione felt miserable. She got short of breath quickly, had heartburn and her belly was huge.   
Rod remembered that his grandmother and an aunt of his both had had twins. He asked the midwife about that possibility. She thought it unlikely as she never had heard more than one heartbeat with her ear-trumpet and pointed out that, while larger than expected at this stage of the pregnancy, Hermione’s belly appeared as big as it did because she was a rather small woman. 

She slept on the side with an extra pillow under her belly. They had sex nearly as often as earlier, most of the time spooning as her breasts had become so big that jiggling them in the a tergo position was uncomfortable.   
When the baby dropped at the beginning of April Hermione’s mood picked up again, with eating and breathing easier. Nadezhda and Henri were still their top names and if Rod privately thought of second ones for each gender he told no one, Antonin was nervous enough without the added danger of possible twins. 

During their forays into the woods the wizards had found dropped horns which Rod now used for fashioning a Beltane altar. He used the horns, a white candle and a vase of fresh flowers. When Toni decorated the horns with coloured ribbons Rod knew his friend was thinking along the same lines as he. The season was the prime date for a handfasting.

Hermione was trying to get comfortable on the settee – the baby was really active – resting her book on her belly. Her men had been secretive again during the last few days. When they dropped on their knees in sync before her she knew why.

“Hermione, you are everything to us. Would you consider handfasting with us?”

The book was dropped and she reached for them.

“Yes, yes, of course! In a heartbeat! Do you want to do it before the baby’s born?”

Rod answered that, “Beltane at sunrise would be best. If he or she is born before we could wait for summer solstice. Or any time you want to.”

“Let’s do it on Beltane morning! Is there any way to have Wasilisa with us?”

“I guess she knows already something. I will talk to her.”

They joined her on the settee and Rod presented her with his mother’s engagement ring, quickly stating that Bellatrix had never known of its existence. Antonin had brought a ring from his mother’s family. Hermione’s finger and feet were slighly swollen, she would wear the rings after the birth, as for the handfasting no jewellery was allowed anyway. The young witch quickly penned an addendum on her lastest letter to her mother with the news. The ceremony itself did not need a lot of preparation. The participants would be barefoot, wearing shifts with nothing under it and a crown of flowers. The colours of the three ribbons were decided quickly – red for love, balance and harmony, green for growth and good health and blue for loyalty, protection and perseverance. 

The day before the ceremony Hermione could not stand still. She checked their crowns which were stored in the she to keep fresh, she sweeped the living room two times, she scrubbed the kitchen cupboards down again, got them gleaming for the breakfast to follow after the ceremony. Wasilisa watched this with narrowed eyes but said nothing.

On the morrow of April 30th Hermione was awake before anyone else. Her back was aching somewhat fiercely. She slipped into the bathroom and took a shower without using any soap or shampoo. Then she woke up her soon-to-be husbands who did the same. The trio only drank some water, a more substantive breakfast would follow after they were handfasted. The mood was sombre but then Hermione had to smile catching sight of them in their diaphanous shifts in the bathroom mirror. Barefooted they made their way outside into their garden. The sky was already pink, going on orange, signalling the imminent sunrise. Wasilisa was waiting with their crowns. Looking at the sky she nodded to Rod. He took the green ribbon, wound it around their clasped hands and vowed, “This ribbon is a symbol of the growth of our family and of good health. We will grow in numbers soon but in being together we already have grown so much, in love, in spirituality and in our souls. Hermione, Antonin, I vow to be yours forever.” The ribbon glowed for a moment. Toni took the blue ribbon.

“Loyalty, protection and perseverance are symbolised by this ribbon. Each one of us has already shown herself and himself capable of these. May our union continue to grow and weather what will come in our futures and that of our children. Hermione, Rodolphus, I vow to be yours forever.” Again the ribbon glowed. Hermione took the last one, the red ribbon, and braided it through the other two.

“As three cords are stronger than two we together are stronger. This ribbon is a symbol of our love, of our harmony and of the perfect balance between us. I found a true home with you and I want to be a true home for you. Antonin, Rodolphus, I love you more than life itself, I vow to be yours forever.” The red ribbon flashed. Wasilisa looked at the horizon which had begun to glow. When she gave a solemn nod at the trio they took their wands, focused on their binding and on their love for each other and touched on the braid of ribbons over their clasped hands the exact moment the sun rose. There was a flare of colour and light from the ribbons and each felt a small sting on their left wrists. They were enveloped in a dome of light that faded to nothing as the sun came up fully. The ribbons were gone and on their wrists were small tattoos of a triskel, the wings with a slight sheen of red, blue and green. Later in their lives they would realise that the sheen intensified conditional upon which of their vows and wishes for each other needed attention most.

Wasilisa was sniffling into an enormous handkerchief. Antonin pressed the camera on her and she took a wedding picture. Giving the camera back she fixed the bride with a a stern look, “Allright, lassie, since when have you been in labour?” Hermione avoided her gaze with a sheepish smile.

“First borns take their time. I have only been sure since shortly before dressing.”

“I suspected when you were cleaning like mad yesterday. You were nesting.” 

The men caught on and Antonin made a move to run out of the garden to fetch the midwife. Wasilisa stopped him, laughing, “Toni, you can’t run down the road in that. We won’t need Daria for hours yet. When you are dressed properly you can walk over and tell her that Hermione is in labour and that we will fetch her when the contractions are stronger and about five minutes apart.”

They went inside for breakfast. Wasilisa told the young woman only to eat lightly but to drink enough. Antonin went to call on Daria, the midwife. She came back with him, examined the expectant mother and told them what to do. They took a long walk, Hermione in the middle, staying near the house. When she doubled over with stronger contractions they made their way back and Rod ran a bath, which helped with the witch’s backpains. Two hours later the contractions had grown in strenght and duration but still were spaced eight to ten minutes apart. Toni and Rod took turns massaging Hermione’s lower back until their fingers ached. In the early afternoon she felt herself flagging and tried to get a bit of rest. The men laid down next to her, stroking her arms and back, crooning how wonderfully she was doing. She wasn’t able to sleep but found it still restful.

Daria came over for another examination and found the young woman’s cervix already five centimetres dilated. She told her to walk around as long as possible and not to hold back if she felt like moaning. By dinnertime the contractions came only minutes apart and lasted quite long. When Hermione’s water broke Wasilisa told the men to run another bath and help their wife to change. She had hardly time to recover between contractions but the warm water soothed the pain. Rod fed her sips of water and Toni had tears in his eyes watching her belly ripple.   
The next examination had her nine centimetres dilated, Daria predicted the baby to be born most likely before midnight. Hermione changed positions often, first sitting on a chair with her arms on its back, then squatting down on the floor, resting her head and arms on the bed. She felt the support of her husbands and the women but was caught in her body, concentrating on a task she had to do mainly alone. The pain was substantial but still bearable. When she felt the first urge to push she said as much to Daria who bade her on the bed on all fours and the gave her the all clear to push. It was exhausting to the point her cries dwindled down to mewls. The midwife was encouraging her. Something told the young witch to get up. She scrambled backwards and put her feet on the floor. That felt much better. During the next contraction, the longest and most painful so far, Antonin held her upright while Rod supported her from behind. The burn was nearly unbearable but Daria’s words and excited shout of, “I can see the head,” made her go on. The next minutes hurt as hell but soon she felt the pressure lessening. 

“Easy now, lassie, head is there, hold back on bearing down until the shoulder’s here.”

Another push delivered their baby. 

“It’s a girl, a beautiful and healthy girl.” 

With minimal encouragement the newborn started to cry. Hermione sagged back unto the bed and wanted to reach for her daughter when another really strong contraction hit. Daria’s demeanor changed. She handed the infant to Wasilisa and put her ear-trumpet to the young woman’s belly.

“Seems I was wrong, there’s another one. Can you stand?” 

Toni and Rod had to drag her up but thankfully the second birth was very quick. Three pushes and a slightly smaller baby was delivered, a boy this time. He was not quite as loud as his sister but equally healthy and with the same shock of black hair.

While the men each held a newborn, swaddled in blankets, with tears in their eyes the women attended Hermione through the afterbirth and made her comfortable in the bed. When Henri was the first to start crying Daria showed the young witch how to feed him. As Nadezhda got hungry soon after and her brother made no sign of stopping anytime soon they had to make a nest of pillows with the babies under each of Hermione’s arms, their heads supported by rolled up towels. Antonin and Rod looked on in wonder.

In the early morning hours Rod went outside in the garden, drew his new wand and concentrated. Many, many miles away in Ottery St. Catchpole a Patronus in the form of a bear appeared in Rabastan Lestrange’s room at the top of the Lovegood house. It spoke with his brother’s voice, “Our children Nadezhda and Henri were born shortly before midnight on Beltane. All is well.”


	26. Families, old and new

_May 1999_

The next few weeks were magical, exhausting, full of emotional upheaval and tears. While Hermione fared fairly well her husbands cried a lot of happy tears, but those of the other kind, too. Each wizard had moments when they doubted their ability to be a good father, a good husband. When the young mother confided in Wasilisa the neighbour took the men over to her datcha under the guise of needing them for repairs and sat them down with a glass of vodka. They came home slightly tipsy and with the mantra of `We don’t have to be perfect, we only have to be good enough´.

Daria and the other women of the settlement had set up a cooking rota. The new parents found a pot of stew from different neighbours on their stoop every day, Wasilisa took care of their washing and other neighbours looked after their garden. The first two weeks neither Hermione nor her husbands slept longer than two hours but at least the children were untroubled by colics. They soon got into a routine where the new mother cast a Muffliato over one husband and woke up the other to help with feeding and changing.   
Within two months Nadezhda and Henri were on a schedule of four hours, thankfully being awake at the same time. The Wilkinses and Rabastan had gotten pictures, the latter only of Rod and the babies. Hermione’s mother was hinting at a possible trip of their family to Europe sometime around Christmas, Rab was demanding a Portkey. The little family agreed on giving themselves a little more time before visits.

Hermione finally understood how Ron had felt while growing. Her children had a healthy appetite and she was glad that breast-feeding them worked as well as it did but she felt she could never eat enough. Daria had brought over an oldfashioned pram the size of a small carriage. Nadezhda and Henri at first fit in easily, by the end of June they had grown so much their mother had to put them at each end. From his last shopping trip before the birth Rod had brough home a baby-carrier. Only one, though. Under the guise of needing bigger nursing bras Hermione sent Antonin to St. Petersburg and told him to get a second baby-carrier, too. 

Daria got a good laugh seeing the young witch’s face when she told her, five weeks after the birth, that she could resume sexual relations with her men.

“Daria, I can hardly keep my eyes open and Rod and Toni fall asleep standing. I am quite sure that they do not think about sex at all.”

“They are men, trust me, they do think about it. But you decide when you’re ready. They might need a clear sign, though. And sometimes men are funny, they do not know what to do with your breasts now that you are nursing. Tell them what feels right for you.”

A week later the witch woke up and wondered what was wrong, there was no baby crying. Antonin scooted around a soundly sleeping Nadezhda, whispering, “Henri needed a new nappy, he fell asleep again with Rod on the settee.” After a trip to the bathroom Hermione settled in Antonin’s embrace and took a few moments to realise why he was keeping his groin away from her. 

“Toni, it is allright. Do you worry because of me or because of Rod? Daria gave me the all-clear last week.”

“Rod and I talked about it. We won’t do anything until you are truly ready. We thought we all might be more comfortable and relaxed if one of us is ready to look after the children if they need us.” 

Nadezhda chose that moment to wake up and demand sustenance, so the topic was moot at the moment. Henri was still snuggled under his father’s chin but Rod had his eyes open. He reaffirmed what Toni had said.  
The next days Hermione and her men made cautious forays into a resumption of their sexual relations, with contraception spells, some hesitation and a lot of laughter.

Before midsummer the trio decided to send Rabastan a Portkey. Rod judged his brother experienced enough to detect any tracking spells in the unlikely event that the Aurory searched for the Lestrange heir via his brother. On the tail of Rabastan’s trial others followed. Kingsely Shacklebolt as acting minister and Amelia Bones as the head of MLE did their best to bring lasting peace to Britain’s wizarding society even if it meant making unpopular decisions. Checking over all Death Eaters´ convictions from the First Vold War went a long way to appease the old families, as most of them had relatives who never had anything to do with violence against Muggles or Muggleborns, they just had wanted to preserve their way of living and their old rites. 

During the last two months of her pregnancy Hermione’s letters to Harry had become scarce, mainly due to her bad conscience about not telling him of her becoming a mother soon. Mindful of someone recognising a Lestrange nose or Dolohov eyes she chose to send a picture of herself and her sleeping babies cuddled against her bosom. In short words she described of finding solace in the arms of two wonderful men and the surprise pregnancy. That Harry wrote back that he could not claim to understand everything but that he trusted her to know best. Neither did he pressure her for further disclosure or an invitation to visit. Hermione cried happy tears about her best friend’s reaction.

\---

By the end of July two men with baby-carriers became a frequent sight in the little settlement. The children began to take in more and more of their surroundings. As the datcha had no attic the trio prepared the shed for Rabastan’s visit. Nearly all of the wood stored there had been needed to enlarge their bed, now that it slept five. Henri especially slept with his little arms flung sideways, taking as much space as a much bigger person. Rod told them that his little brother had slept the same way but as Wasilisa and Daria had said that Nadezhda looked just like Antonin’s mother the paternity of the twins was still undecided.  
There was a Dolohov family home, a big enough house, in St. Petersburg. Antonin wanted to wait for Rabastan to get a clearer understanding of his legal status as he was reluctant to take up a new identity. They still had some time before they would need more living space.

The Portkey was to deposit the younger Lestrange in St. Peterburg’s wizarding district where Rod would collect him and take him to the datcha via public transport. He was in for a surprise when not only his brother arrived but a whispy blonde young woman as well.

“Hello Mr. Lestrange, nice to meet you. I am Luna Lovegood.”

Manners kicked in and Rod abandoned the glare at his brother for the sake of greeting the witch properly. 

“Rodolphus Lestrange. How do you do?”

“I am glad that Hermione is happy.” Both brothers looked at Lovegood in shock.

“Do not worry. I knew as soon as I saw the pictures. Hermione deserves to be appreciated. I saw her being worshipped by two wizards.”

“You’re a seer?”

“Not in the classical sense. Sometimes I see things, sometimes I just know things. Like I knew Rabastan to be a good man when I saw him first in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor.”

“I am sure Hermione will be glad to see you.” 

After checking both for tracking spells Rod Apparated them to Gostilitsy and then walked them to the bus. Luna took it serenly but Rab paled at potholes and sharp turns.  
The reunion of the two women was joyful and tearful, with Antonin juggling two wide awake babies in the background. Hermione introduced the guests to the children and Rab was genuinely happy to see Toni alive. After a few minutes of hugging and cooing the younger Lestrange enquired, “So this young lady is the Lestrange heir?”

Rod explained that they did not know, nor care.

“I guess it doesn’t matter, but magic will care. There are some nasty protections on the family rooms of Lestrange Manor I would not know how to disable.”

Luna gazed at the children thoughtfully and then said, “Nadezhda is a Dolohov and Henri a Lestrange biologically but as they shared a womb the magic of either house will accept them.”

“Is that even possible?” Toni exclaimed, “And how can you be sure?”

Hermione beamed.

“Luna sees things. I believe her and I am happy. Even if I believe you that you truly do not care which one of you fathered the children I am glad that you both did. And it is possible to have twins from different fathers, if very rare.”

The bed in the shed was enlarged to hold two persons. Transfiguring furniture for a week was alright, for the family bed they had had to do it the Muggle way lest they wanted to land on their bums when the spell dwindled to nothing. Luna and Rabastan were good company and they brought good news as well. Rod’s trial was already in preparation as the memories Rab had provided at his trial showed that his elder brother hadn’t even been there when Barty Crouch Jr. and Bellatrix had tortured the Longbottoms. He would get a sentence for being a marked Death Eater but with his fifteen year – stay in Azkaban that would be considered served. After Rod’s release from the prison he had not been able to wield much magic, they had testimonies from Yaxley and Snape to that but Amelia Bones wanted to wait half a year for possible victims to come forward. Lavender Brown had survived and identified the elder Lestrange as her saviour, Neville Longbottom of all people had seen him pushing Hermione out of the way of a spell. Augusta was not talking to her grandson at the moment. Luna mentioned that Neville might be happy to get a letter from Hermione.

Surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix were also questioned extensively under Veritaserum. The trio was especially glad that Severus Snape had survived. The interrogation of Arthur Weasley had brought to light that Fabian and Gideon Prewett had been killed during a duel gone out of hand, so even Antonin could expect to be able to walk about without looking over his shoulder eventually. His trial was no priority, as he was presumed dead, but he would get a trial.


	27. Reunions

_Dear Neville,_

_I want to thank you for keeping quiet about the circumstances of my disappearance. As you possibly suspected already I got caught in an accidental Apparition. The person who wanted to keep my rescuer safe aimed for a long distance, it is a miracle he survived at all.  
Please believe me that there was no contact between us other than on a battlefield beforehand.   
Do you want to keep in contact? Harry knows a bit, Luna too. I could not trust the Weasleys to understand my state of mind and my reasons for laying low for so long and for staying away. My parents are lost to me, but I have found a new family. I do hope that I won’t lose your friendship but I would understand if you do not wish further contact._

_Best wishes_

_Nia_

One evening in the Gryffindor common room Neville and her had daffed around with acronyms, laughing about S.P.E.W. or M.O.S.S. – Most Obnoxious Smelling Snailremover and had given themselves nicknames. N.I.A. for Know it All, because K.I.A. was an automobile brand name, and D.I.G. for Devil In the Greenhouse.

\---

Rabastan and Luna left two weeks later. The children grew like weeds and the family adjusted more and more. Nadezhda and Henri were curious children, watching their surroundings with wide eyes. Their daughter’s eyes were now a very light hazel with green tints, Henri had his biological father’s dark orbs. When autumn came the wizards worked on isolating the datcha’s ground floor and eliminate all drafts as the children started to rob and crawl around the living room. Antonin had hired two paid elves to clean his family home in St. Petersburg. Hermione had been against it at first but seeing how glad the creatures were to have a family again she relented.   
The twins were sleeping in their own bed by now but that stretched the bedroom in the datcha to its limits, even with magic. Eventually they would have to relocate to Dolohov house and come back to the datcha during summers, when sleeping in the shed or even in a tent in the garden was possible.

The teething of their children brought our trio many sleepless nights but also an idea of how to earn their livelyhood. Antonin had an idea for a spell to numb the gums of the babies. He crafted a teething ring from wood, Rod searched for the right runes to carve into it to give it cooling and numbing properties and Hermione checked everything over with Arithmancy. When they were satisfied that it was safe Toni anchored the spell in the wood with a closely defined ward. Hermione was in her element putting together a proposal for their company. Word had spread in the Russian wizarding community that Antonin was back in his home country, he had already some requests for warding properties, but only took on those near St. Petersburg. For now they were not in need of money – with Rod access to the Lestrange vaults via Gringotts – but even if Hermione was quite sure that she would never again become as driven as in pre-war and war-times she knew that their family would need to occupy their minds. Caring for the children, gardening, cooking and sex were all wonderful but considering the livespan of wizards and witches not enough.

\---

_Early December 1999_

The Wilkinses had sent word that they were coming over to Europe for an extended stay. Katyin had been admitted to the pre-school they had aimed for but was the only child of Aborigine origin. While she got along fine with her classmates Monica was horrified by the amount of prejudice she saw in the other parents and occasionally also in the teachers. She and her husband thought it prudent to act before their daughter suffered. As they had an offer for the clinic they were considering a move back to Europe in earnest, which was also possible because the adoptions had gone through. They would stay in Stockholm and the surrounding area for a two weeks, looking at schools, dental clinics and housing before deciding between Britain and Sweden as their further residence. Monica longed to see Hermione again. 

Apparition or Portkeys were not recommended for children younger than a year but there was a direct ferry connecting St. Petersburg with Stockholm. Hermione’s husbands were doubtful but after checking out the ferry they agreed that it should be allright. The witch suspected they were also nervous about meeting their quasi in-laws. Many letters between Monica and her had brought the two women much closer than mere acquaintances, Mrs Wilkins remarking once that Hermione reminded her of her favourite cousin and that she would have named a biological daughter either Perdita or Hermione.

Katyin and Mandu were enchanted with the snow in Stockholm and quickly bored with Nadezhda and Henri, as they were less exciting playmates than expected. The twins were sitting on their own, rolling and robbing along the floor. Henri’s speciality was scuttling backwards on his bum. Wendell and Monica loved their antics and were happy to entertain them while Hermione spent as much time as possible with her brother and sister. She knew that – due to the Statue of Secrecy - she could not be totally honest with her parents but did not want to lie to them, as she still felt guilty about robbing them of their memories of her. Therefore the trio stayed as close to the truth as possible. Their coverstory was that they had grown up in an anti-modernist sect, that there had been a conflict and that all three were considered defectors by their opposing parties. Exile and a common goal of living in peace had brought them together to living as a triad and now being proud parents.

The Wilkinses were emphatic enough not to probe too deeply and with Antonin’s skill at chess and Rod’s love and extensive knowledge of the classics they did not lack topics to talk about if they chose to drop children-related themes. The trio from the wizarding world had read up on current politics, still.   
When the visit drew to a close Hermione wished fervently that her parents would decided to settle in Nyköping where they were to go next to look at a dental clinic.

Years later Monica would confide in Hermione that she had been adamant to take the young woman aside to make sure there was no power imbalance between her and the two men considerably older but observing the trio’s dynamic for two hours had made her drop the idea. 

\---

Shortly before Yule two very welcome letters arrived. Neville apologized profusely for being so late in replying but easing into his Herbology apprenticeship and being in love with Hannah Abbot had distracted him thoroughly. He assured her of his continued regard and congratulated her on the birth of her children. Monica Wilkins wrote that Nykoeping was very much to their liking and that she had even stayed there with the children while Wendell had gone back to Australia to sell the clinic and arrange for their belongings to be relocated to Sweden.

\---

_June 2000_

During spring the family had spent time in Antonin’s townhouse, working hard to make it a home. Now the twins were starting to walk and had even exhibited the first signs of magic. A playpen, even a magical one, could not contain them for long. The summer would be spent at the datcha. Antonin had crafted unbreakable bracelets with a tracking charm and protective enchantments. What had started with a teething ring was now building up to a whole line of products for wizards and Squibs. There was a mass of spells for parents, but a lot of them prefered to have a magical product like the unspillable cup rather than using spells afterwards. For now a few shops in Russia sold the items but Harry had offered to show the ones Hermione had sent over for Teddy to George Weasley for his shop. 

When Toni read in the `Prophet´ that Severus Snape was not returning to Hogwarts after his long recovery he suggested to invite the professor. His argument was that combinations of runes, Arithmancy, wards and potions were even more efficient than using only three of the arts. Rod simply said that he missed the miserable bastard as well. Hermione was a tad apprehensive but ready to let her wizards have their fun. Rabastan delivered a letter and a Portkey to the Potions master for a visit in early July.

Antonin and Rod had built a crib big enough for both of their twins, as they did not sleep as well when separated. If Henri fell asleep under the elder in the garden and Nadezhda with one of her fathers on the settee inevitably one of them would wake up after half an hour, searching for the other. The children were now sleeping in the living room of the datcha, the triad had their bedroom back. They had to tinker their silencing spell so that the magical babyphone they had invented worked around it but otherwise they took advantage of the larger bed.   
Under her husbands adoration Hermione had felt beautiful and desirable but motherhood had brought on a whole new level of understanding her body. She knew what she wanted and was confident enough to demand it. Becoming parents had some obvious drawbacks concerning the triad’s sexlife, untimely interruptions mainly, but on an emotional level it had connected them in a way they hadn’t thought possible, bringing forward trust and appreciation for the others that enriched sexual experiences as well.

A year old Nadezhda and Henri were read to in the evening. Rod would start with English children’s books, wizarding and Muggle, and Toni would continue in Russian. The children were starting to talk, addressing Toni as Papa, Rod as Dada and Hermione as Mama. `Taktak´ was a neighbour’s tractor and `Mi´ Wasilisa’s cat. 

\---

_July 3rd 2000_

“Well, bugger me sideways, Miss Granger!”

Rod had walked Snape home from the bus-stop after collecting him from St. Petersburg. 

“Hello, Master Snape. It’s Dolohov-Lestrange now. These are Nadezhda and Henri.”

While the Potions master looked a lot better than during Hermione’s sixth year at Hogwarts, his mode of dress – jeans and a t-shirt – making him appear younger than ever, but now he paled and swayed on his feet. Antonin caught his elbow and directed him to the garden bench.

“Rodnaya, will you fetch the vodka, please? – Henri, don’t eat the pea-blossoms, you won’t get peas if you do!”

Nadezhda had three rather dirty fingers in her mouth and was looking at the newcomer with big eyes. She and her brother had `helped´ their Papa all morning in the garden. Rod sat down next to Snape.

“All right there, mate? I haven’t seen you this shocked since your sixth year.”

“Give me a moment. I have dropped my Occlumency shields completely. I’ve had them up for close to twenty years. It takes time.”

Hermione had heard the last sentences, offering vodka, water and a smile.

“Forgive me, Madam, for not greeting you properly. Let me congratulate you on your marriage and the birth of your children. Rod and Toni have not been fortcoming in their letter.”

The witch waved him off, “Do not worry. And thank you for your well wishes. For now only Rabastan and Luna know about our family, besides you. Harry and Neville know that I am well, far away and a mother.”

“You do look well. Grown up, confident and glowing.” At the last word Antonin’s head snapped up.

“Hermione? Glowing?” 

“I wanted to wait until I was sure. Daria’s away visiting her daughter.”

“There’s a spell,” Rod put in, “we didn’t use it last time because you fainted. – Sev, keep an eye on the kids, will you?”

The trio went inside. Hermione laid down on their bed, baring her stomach and Rod cast the spell. A faint green circle hoovered for a moment.

“Yes, love, we are indeed expecting again.”

After some hugs, kisses and tears they went outside again. Snape was crouching down, explaining the uses of dandelions in potions to two spellbound toddlers. His voice had not lost its charm.

“Right, Potions master, no kitchen duty for you during this visit, you get the bed-time readings,” Toni exclaimed.

\---

Snape – Severus now to Hermione – had some ideas for broadening their range of products with potions or potion infused artefacts, an area of research that had interested him for a while already. Now he had the time and freedom to pursue it he did so with gusto. While he slept in the `guestroom´ in the shed he frequently Apparated to the townhouse which had a defunct laboratory. Antonin provided the money for the Potions master to bring it up to its former glory.  
As the man who had lied to Voldemort and got away with it the witch approached the master Occlumens with questions about her parents. Sadly Severus had to confirm what Toni had already said, the memory charm could not be undone without grievious harm to Monica and Wendell. 

During Snape’s visit an official letter from the Wizengamot arrived. Rodolphus’ trial had been held in absentis. The wizard was found guilty of being a Death Eater, for which offence he got ten years. The sentence was reduced due to his helping Lavender Brown and Hermione Granger during the last battle to seven years. Those were considered served. The Head of House Lestrange was a free man.   
After the children went to bed the trio and their visitor toasted to the good news, the witch with elderflower cordial. Rod professed not having an immediate desire to go back to Britain but said he would do it when his wife and husband wanted to. Hermione was torn. On one hand did she want to see Harry, the Weasleys and other friends again, on the other hand was she fearful of their reaction to her changed situation. Severus agreed to her reasons for not going anytime soon.

“British wizarding society _has_ improved since the end of the war, but it is still very backwards and old prejudices are still at work. Rod won’t encounter much antagonism if he takes up his role again, being Head of an old, influential pure-blood family. You are female and you are Muggleborn. They crucified you in your forth year when you were dancing with a young Bulgarian with an impeccable reputation. I don’t need to paint a picture of what the press and the public, and possibly some of your friends, will do to you when they find out that you married not one, but two Death Eaters, shortly after the war.”

Toni cut in, “Sev, either Rod is an influential head of a prestigious family or a Death Eater, he can’t be both.”

“They will do their worst, believe me. If Miss Granger strays from being the good little Muggleborn that helped The-boy-who-lived and his trusted, _pureblooded_ sidekick to vanquish Voldemort, if she doesn’t know her place – a dead-end Ministry job and marriage to an upstanding wizard – they will tear her apart. By being a confident, independent witch who ignores all boundaries, magicwise or set by society, she will become the focal point of the ire and insecurities of the mindless sheep that comprise 95 percent of Britain’s wizarding society.”

“Harry would support me and my decisions.”

“He would. At least at the beginning. He visited a few times after I woke up at St. Mungo’s. My impression is that he craves peace and quiet. He will suffer if the Weasleys and possibly the Ministry, via his superiors at the Aurory, put pressure on him. I do not think he would desert you, stubborn Gryffindor that he is, but you would resent yourself for making him suffer.”

“You are right. With my parents settling in Sweden and Toni’s situation I do not forsee any need of mine to go back soon. Neville and Luna could visit. I miss the Weasleys but I have no illusions about their reaction. George, maybe, eventually, would understand.”

“I am sorry, rodnaya.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Toni, and Rod neither. Molly was always very quick to think the worst of me, most of her children have their mother’s temper.”

\---

_February 20th, 2000_

Perdita Eileen was born in the early morning in the family’s townhouse. Compared to the twin’s birth her’s was quick and easy. Right now she was admired by her godfather Severus and the twins while Hermione rested in her husbands’ arms.   
Rod had transferred his headship to Rabastan and suggested that his brother offer Neville Longbottom the Lestrange votes as proxy, as long as he could not do it himself or as long as he wanted.

_Early June 2000_

The Longbottom Heir had been surprised by Rabastan’s offer. His grandmother had pursed her lips and suggested that it was a sign of a guilty conscience. Neville knew better as Rod had written a long letter to him. The elder Lestrange _was_ feeling guilty that he had not reigned his wife in and that he had not protected his brother better but the main reason for chosing the young man was that he was a pure-blood who understood the importance of old traditions while not being prejudiced in the way others were.  
As Rabastan had professed no interest in politics at all Neville had written to Rodolphus for a meeting. He had a list of proposals for the coming Wizengamot season. A few of them he could foresee a difference of opinion between the Lestranges and himself. As sworn proxy Neville could just use the votes as he wanted to but honor compelled him to talk to Rodolphus about it. The man had sent him an invitation and an unspecified Portkey. Neville decided to take a leap of faith and use it, even if he did not know where it would deposit.

After whirling through the space he landed in what looked like Gringotts Apparition chamber. Rodolphus Lestrange was waiting.

“Welcome, Mr Longbottom. We are in St. Petersburg. If that is agreeable to you we could walk to our house, my family is eager to meet you. We can talk there.”

“I would not want to intrude.”

“Nonsense, my wife is anxious to see you.”

“I did not know that you married again, may I offer my congratulations?”

“Thank you. We are married in every sense but the official one as it is a triad. We were bonded by magic.”

Soon they approached a nicely sized but otherwise unremarkable townhouse. A whistling Severus Snape was coming down the stairs. Neville’s mouth stayed open for longer than good manners dictated. The Potions master was wearing black linnen trousers and a moss green, shortsleeved shirt of the same material. His hair was soft and shiny and blowing in the light breeze, a simmering cauldron tattooed over the place where the Dark Mark had been. Snape looked decades younger.

“Professor Snape!”

“Mr Longbottom. Please call me Snape, or Severus. I am no longer anybody’s professor. I am in a bit of a hurry but let me thank you for killing that abomination Nagini!”

With that the terror of his childhood shook his hands, clapped him on his shoulders and was gone again. Lestrange called after him, “Hot date, Sev?”

Snape flipped him the finger without turning around and Neville finally managed to close his mouth.

“He only wears colour when out to impress a lady.” Rodolphus opened the door and had to bend down to catch a small child that was running at full speed.

“Nadja, what did I tell you about running in the house? You have a playroom and the garden.”

“Wanted to go with Sev!”

“Sev can’t take you everywhere he goes, Merlin knows he’s spoiling you already.”

“Who’s dat, Daddy?”

“This is Mr Neville Longbottom, Mr Longbottom, may I present our elder daughter Nadezhda?”

Neville bowed down to the little one.

“I am very pleased to meet you, Miss Nadezhda.”

The girl hid behind her father’s legs, shy suddenly.

“Darling, where is Mama?”

“Upstairs, Pedi was crying.”

“And Henri?”

Just then another toddler was coming towards them, followed by a darkhaired man of Lestrange’s age. He seemed familiar to Neville, the piercing blue eyes with laughter lines especially.

“Our son, Henri, he is Nadezhda’s twin, and Antonin Dolohov. Toni, this is Neville Longbottom.”

Neville shook the Russian’s hand in an automatic response. He knew that the Death Eater’s trial was scheduled in September and that whatever sentence he would get would be considered served but this was the wizard who had cut Hermione nearly in half in her fifth year.

“Glad to meet you, Mr Longbottom. Are you hungry? Henri and I have just finished making lunch.”

“`Ronus! `Ronus!” the children were chanting.

With a much put on sigh Dolohov drew his wand. Neville tensed but the wizard just conjured a corporal patronus – a bear – who sniffed at the giggling children before disappearing upstairs with the message, “Rodnaya, our guest has arrived and lunch is ready.”

Neville found himself seated at a kitchen table overlooking the garden behind the house while his host was ushering the children towards the bath for washing their hands. A woman carrying a small baby entered the kitchen. She handed the child over to Rod for burping and bounded over to Neville who had trouble recognising Hermione Granger.

“Neville, it is so good to see you!”

“Hermione?”

A tearful reunion followed and not once did the wizard think to question his friend’s choices seeing her surrounded by her husbands and children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, dear readers, for your support. The epilogue will be posted shortly!


	28. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And they live happily ever after?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In no way do I want to belittle the hardships of people suffering from depression and I do know that sweat lodge ceremonies are no cure for that illness. But in this story I can pretend and help one of my protagonists. Thank you for your comments and kudos!

`Baba Jaga Enterprises´ was a small but thriving business. Neither of its owners were in a hurry to expand it or sell their inventions to a manufacturer as they were quite busy with their children. Hermione had contacted George Weasley for a joint venture.  
Eventually the firm would also conquer the American market when Ron Weasley moved there with his wife Annabelle, a beater with the US National Quidditch team.   
Severus Snape was offered a partnership when he decided to stay in St. Petersburg. He had met Jelisaweta Stachanow, a Potions mistress, in an apothecary. Their relationship had started with them quarreling about ingredients, recipies and different approaches to brewing in Britain and Russia but had progressed quickly after Jelisaweta had silenced Severus with a kiss when she had been in danger of losing their discussion. 

The Wilkins and the Dolohov-Lestrange families visited each other often and usually spent part of their holidays together. Katyin and Mandu thrived at school, the little girl growing up to become a marine biologist while her brother was training to become a dentist. Monica was Perdita’s secondary godmother and took her role seriously.

Hermione, Toni and Rod had their trials. The worst so far was when Antonin had contracted a rare strand of Dragon Pox on an assignment in Siberia and the illness spread to the whole family. Despite nearly dying himself Toni continued to beat himself with bringing trouble to his family, to his children. Perdita had some faint scars on her left cheek from scratching the pustules. One had to know them to be there and the light had to be right but for Antonin they were a constant reminder of him not being worthy of this family. The Russian slipped into a depression so profound neither Hermione’s and Rod’s love nor Severus’ potions could help.

Luna Lestrange came and whisked him away for a week. No one knew where they had vanished to but Antonin came back a changed man. They had done some sort of sweat lodge ceremonies where Luna had used her Seer abilities to show Toni projections of parallel strands of life and how his absence would have affected the lives of Rodolphus, Hermione, Severus and the children. Whenever he would start to doubt himself again he contacted Luna for a reminder.

After attending a wizarding primary school and being taught Muggle subjects at home the Dolohov-Lestrange children went to Durmstrang, the school having a new headmistress that was half-Veela and had a rather progressive approach while still respecting the old ways. 

Hermione met with Harry whenever she Portkeyed over to Britain which happened rarely. They stayed in the Muggle world as Molly had not taken Antonin’s acquittal well. Neville and Hannah and their children were frequent visitors however.

_September 1st 2009_

Hermione was in tears. Her husbands and she had come back from the magical part of Kronstadt’s haven where Perdita had boarded the ship to Durmstrang along with her elder siblings. Rod and Antonin had prepared a nice lunch with cooled champagne and had planned an afternoon of debauchery in the now empty townhouse. Their wife had taken the departure of _all_ of her children unexpectedly hard. While she was an affectionate mother she was not a clingy or overprotective one. Knowing about the importance of working on their relationship as husbands and wife besides being parents the trio had spent time away from their children before. So this reaction was a surprise.  
The champagne stayed in its cooler, Rod carried Hermione upstairs to the bedroom while Antonin brewed tea. After the witch’s sobs had quietened a bit she took the offered cup and snuggled up to her husbands.

“Now, love, what brought this on?”

“Call me silly but I feel like a chapter of my life is ending. One that has brought me so much joy. Every time I think I cannot love you more than I do I see you with one of our children and my heart overflows.”

“Rodnaya, you are 29. You will not see me reading a story to Perdita or trying to teach Henri the Wronski feint but you will see me threatening Nadja’s first suitor, Rod will think of something, too.”

Rod took over in that uncanny way Hermione’s husbands had perfected over the years, “And even if we space them nicely apart we can have ten more children before you’ll get too old for it, if you miss that time so much. The benefit of having such a young wife, I guess. Thankfully we are two, otherwise so many kids would be too much for Toni and I.”

His words were spoken in jest but Hermione cocked her head to the side, putting her hand on Rod’s thigh, “Wise words, my loves. I will think about having more children. Meanwhile we might take advantage of our empty nest?”

That they did.

\---

Alexej Dolohov-Lestrange was born in January 2013, his little brother Jacob on his mother’s 34th birthday in September 2014. Toasting the proud fathers Severus Snape offered to brew Vitality and Strenghtening potions for the time when the latest addition to the family would inevitably leave for school and Hermione might feel his absence too keenly again.

Fin


End file.
